Underneath it All
by Crystal Manning
Summary: All Melanie Crowe wanted for her sophomore year was to join the lacrosse team and have the time of her life with her best friend by her side. What she didn't expect was to spend the year running around with werewolves, dodging werewolf hunters, tracking down a lizard monster, and...learning to fly? She'll have to wing it if she wants to live to see another day. Erica/OFC, Isaac/OC
1. Birds of a Feather Flock Together

_**Title: **_Underneath It All_**  
>Rating: <strong>_T_**  
>Summary: <strong>_All Melanie Crowe wanted for her sophomore year was to join the lacrosse team and have the time of her life with her best friend by her side. What she didn't expect was to spend the year running around with werewolves, dodging werewolf hunters, tracking down a lizard monster, and...learning to fly? She'll have to wing it if she wants to live to see another day. She always had a fascination for the supernatural but she never imagined falling into the fast paced world and learning that she had been a part of it all along. (Follows show plot with a dew deviations here and there starting from episode one.)_**  
>Pairings: <strong>_Erica/OFC, Isaac/OC (same OC, not a love triangle), Scallison, Jydia, Berica_**  
>Genres: <strong>_Supernatural, Romance, Adventure, Hurt/Comfort, Family, Mystery, Angst, Suspense  
><em><strong>Warnings:<strong>_ Eating disorder, body dysmorphia, semi-graphic violence

* * *

><p><em><strong>Chapter 1: Birds of a Feather Flock Together<strong>_

"Er-ri-caaaaaaaaaaaaa!"

Three pleats of a honking horn punctuated the name that was stretched out that cool January morning. It was a morning that held a bright blue, cloudless sky. It was a morning that looked as if it belonged on a postcard or in a photograph. It was a morning of new beginnings.

It was a morning where Melanie Crowe was going to kick Scott McCall's ass.

"Erica! Put your rear in gear!" Melanie yelled, honking the horn to her truck again. She was sitting in the driveway of the Reyes house, staring up at the window that overlooked the garage, waiting to see if Erica was _finally_ ready to go to school. Melanie's fingers twitched against the steering wheel as she waited. If Erica didn't hurry up she'd leave her behind and get to the ass kicking that kept her muscles tense since she woke up that morning.

Well, nerves played a part in that as well but Scott was the scapegoat she needed to put an extra pep in her step. For that day was the first day back at Beacon Hills High after the New Year and she wanted to start it off on a good foot. Last year's disaster was _not_ going to repeat itself.

Melanie's hand hovered over the horn once more when, finally, the window flew up and Erica Reyes stuck her head out. "I'm not ready!" she yelled out. "I have nothing to wear!" If her tousled blond hair and the large, gray sweats hanging off her body were of any indication, she didn't plan on leaving the house at all. And if Melanie weren't best friends with her, she would give in and let Erica stay there.

But they were best friends. And she was going to school whether she liked it or not.

Pumping the door handle, she pushed open the door of her truck and jumped down to the gravel driveway. Slamming it shut with her palm, she reached into the truck bed, grabbed her backpack, and headed straight into the house. Even if it weren't unlocked she had a spare key made her for. How else was she going to have ease of access when Erica suffered through one of her 'I hate the world' meltdowns? And besides, what kind of friend knocked?

That was the same thought that went though Melanie's mind as she barged her way right into Erica's room. Dropping her backpack on the ground, she brushed her black bangs out of her bright blue eyes and said sternly, "Okay, Eri, let's get the basics out of the way: you're not fat, your acne isn't bad, no, your hair's not too greasy, and for the love of _god_ you are gorgeous and I wish you would realize that. Okay!" She clapped her hands together. "Up and at 'em! We have first day of sophomore year to conquer."

Grumbling, Erica stepped back into her closet and began to push aside hangers. "Are you seriously going to try out for the lacrosse team again?" she called out. When she got an affirmative _mhm_ as a response she continued, "Coach Finstock didn't even let you try last year. What makes you think this year will be different?"

"Well, for starters, over the summer I practiced as much as I possibly could to get in better shape. And, another thing, I have the principal on my side this time." Melanie reached into her backpack and pulled out an envelope that had been sticking between her school books. Approaching the closet, she held it out for Erica to take and read. "As he and I noticed, nowhere in the rules does it say a girl can't try out for a male sports team. And since we don't have a female lacrosse team, male lacrosse is it."

Erica grunted, read the letter, and then held it back. "Are you sure you want to deal with Jackson again after last time?"

Melanie tucked the letter into the front pocket of her jean jacket and crossed her arms. "Whittemore can suck a dick for all I care. I am making the team this year and that's that." She scoffed. "In fact, Scott was supposed to help me practice last night but he never showed. Which is _why_ we need to get to school, so I can kick his ass for standing me up."

Erica paused, holding a shirt up to her chest. She tilted her head and regarded her dark haired friend. Licking her lips, she asked, "…You're still into him, aren't you?"

"What? Me? No. I'm over that. I've _been_ over that." Melanie waved her hand as if waving away the notion. Erica chose not to comment on the red color that had settled into her friend's cheeks. Instead she rid herself of her sweat shirt and tugged on the blouse that she had chosen. "I just think it's lame that you say you're going to do something and then you don't do it—and are you _seriously_ going to go with that shirt and those pants?" she directed at Erica's clothing choice.

"What's wrong with it?" She asked, looking down at her brown shirt and white pants. She tugged on the ends of her hair and bit her lip. Melanie could practically see the gears turning in her head as she worried her lip between her teeth.

"You look like an Oompa Loompa minus the bad tan," Melanie replied.

Erica released her lip from her teeth and tried to give Melanie a stern look but it didn't last long. Soon her face split into a smile and she found herself giggling. Leave it to Mel to be super blunt and forthcoming with her thoughts. Sighing, Erica tugged the shirt over her head and went for another one.

"Listen, Eri, forget what happened last year, alright? Forget all those other years. Forget everything except you, me, and the new school year where we can start over and make it right and make it _ours_." Melanie held out her hands. When Erica didn't walk towards her she wiggled her fingers and lifted her eyebrows, prompting Erica to finally grasp her hands. "Hey," she said gently. "Don't let anyone else into this brilliant head of yours. You may have a condition, but that's okay, because it doesn't define you. It's how you react to it that defines you. Okay?"

Erica nodded. A second later her lip began to tremble and she sniffed. "I just want to be like everyone else," she admitted.

Melanie smiled. "I know. And this year you can be like everyone else. Because this year is ours to do what we want with it. And what _I_ want to do with it is have you by my side for every single moment so when we're old and gray we can laugh about all the dumb stuff we went through and the dumb stuff we said as we rock in chairs on the porch and drink purple Kool-Aid."

Erica laughed and let go of Melanie's hands as she thought of that first day they met, ages ago. Back in fourth grade. Melanie had moved to Beacon Hills with her parents, of whom were longtime friends of her own parents. A play date had been set up for them by their mothers but they didn't get along right away. Melanie was into Pokémon while Erica was into Barbies. They fought all day long over what they were going to play, when they were going to play it, and who was going to play what part. The one thing that settled them down? Lunch time. A lunch that was accompanied by purple Kool-Aid, what they both quickly found out was their favorite drink. How a friendship formed from there, Erica didn't know, but she wouldn't trade Melanie for the world. What she lacked in courage Melanie made up for tenfold.

It was hard not to think that everything was going to be okay with Melanie around.

"Okay," Erica finally relented. "Let me pick something and then we can get going so you can kick Scott's ass." She had began to turn to the closet when she stopped, turned back, and added, "Don't forget—"

"I know, I know. I'll talk to Stiles…_after_ I have a chat with McCall."

###

Beacon Hills High School was buzzing by the time the two girls arrived for the start of the new school semester. Shrieks and screams of glee pierced the air every now and then of those that recognized their friends. Groups formed on the grounds as a quick catch-up session went on before first bell. Turning off the truck's engine, Melanie turned around to open the back window and pull her backpack through. She struggled a little when her lacrosse stick got stuck but she managed to wiggle it out and drop it onto her lap.

"So there's no way I can talk you out of this?" Erica asked, eyeing the newly laced lacrosse stick. "Not even reminding you of the concussion?"

"I wouldn't have gotten a concussion if Stiles could aim for shit," Melanie replied, her eyebrow popping up.

Erica sighed. Melanie could tell it was one of defeat and she grinned. "Alright. But don't say I didn't warn you."

Melanie leaned over and kissed Erica's cheek. "You're the best. Also, don't forget, I can't drive you home after school."

"I know. I have a doctor's appointment anyway." Erica popped open the passenger side door and got out of the truck. Slinging her bag over her shoulder she waved at her friend, ducked her head down, and headed into the school at a fast pace.

Melanie sighed as she watched her walk away. If it weren't for that YouTube video she could have her old Erica back. Alas, this was the Erica she had now and if that meant that she would have to hold her above the tossing sea by the arms then she would.

She would hold on for dear life. Because Erica was worth it.

Heaving her own bag over her shoulder, Melanie's blue eyes scanned the grounds for two familiar faces. She bobbed and weaved between the incoming students, muttering "excuse me" every now and then as she stepped in and out of people's way. Finally she spotted the two she was looking for and made a beeline for them, cutting in between other students to get to the two in question. If only she had timed her entrance better, that way she didn't have to deal with the secondhand embarrassment of Stiles being rejected by Lydia…_again_.

"You're the cause of this, y'know," Stiles was saying to Scott as Melanie sidled up to them. She rolled her eyes. Even Scott didn't seem to agree with him. As if Scott was the reason that Stiles was overzealous about is never-ending crushing on the one and only Lydia Martin. "Dragging me down to your nerd depths. I'm a nerd by association."

"You're a nerd because it's embedded in your genes—sorry for you and your future children," Melanie said, patting Stiles on the shoulder.

"Hey Mels," Stiles and Scott greeted her in unison. Stiles, smartly, ignored her jab.

"That's all I get?" she demanded. Scott's eyebrows furrowed. "'Hey Mels'? How about 'Hey Mels, sorry I forgot to come over last night and help you like I promised. I was a being a big asshole instead'." She twisted her mouth to the side and squinted as the seconds ticked by. Finally, as if a light bulb appeared over his head, he gasped. "Mhm," she hummed.

"Oh, man! I'm sorry! I totally forgot!" Scott gasped. "See, Stiles and I were—"

"—Were just talking about the upcoming lacrosse season," Stiles jumped in, slapping Scott on the shoulder. Melanie's squinting was replaced with a look that was purely incredulous. "Yeah, should be an interesting one. You're going to try out again, I see," he continued, nodding at the stick attached to her backpack. "Very brave of you."

Melanie snorted. "It's very brave of _you_ wouldn't you say?" Reaching out, she pinched Stiles's cheek between her forefinger and thumb and said in a babyish voice, "Wittle Stiles wants to join the big boys this year, doesn't he?"

"Yeah, that's the goal," he replied, slapping her hand away. With a wink he added, "Whether it happens on or off the field first is the question."

"Ew," Melanie uttered, making a face while Stiles smirked. "Didn't need to hear that."

"I'm sorry. I'll try talking _over_ you next time. The words will take longer to reach your ears." He waved his hands over the space above her head, mocking her short stature compared to his.

She blinked, her head tilting in confusion. "Wait…that's possible? That's an actual thing?" she asked.

Stiles's lips parted, an expression appeared on his face as if he had seen it all at that point. Scott chuckled and shook his head. "He was being sarcastic, Mels," he offered up.

"…Oh," Melanie said quietly. She hoped that Stiles would drop the subject—that wasn't the first time she had straight up believed his sarcasm—but of course, this was Stiles, he didn't know when to drop something.

Stiles threw his arms into the air. "Really. _Really._ Still can't quite catch up on that? You're-you're a real genius there, Crowe. S'not like you've had seven years to get used to it. No, not seven _long_ years. Never passed tests along the way. I should get you a translator, in fact. I'm sure Google would back me up on this."

"Shut up, _Piles!_" Melanie's cheeks burned red and her nostrils flared as Stiles shook his head, rubbing a hand over his short hair. He didn't have to rub it in! It wasn't like they were attached at the hip or anything! And was it bad that she didn't want to believe that anyone would lead her astray? She didn't think so. Frustrated, she had begun to draw her hand back to strike him when Scott pushed through the two of them.

"Okay, settle down." Sighing, he turned to Melanie. "I really am sorry, Mel. Something came up and I forgot. But maybe you didn't need my help. I'm sure you'll be great on your own." If she hadn't known them for years she would have carried the argument on but this was Scott McCall. One look in his puppy eyes and you'd give up any argument in a nanosecond.

"Thanks," Melanie replied, sounding as confident as she could muster. She bit her lip. As much as she wanted it she knew it would be an uphill battle to be taken seriously. Not just by Coach Finstock but by the other guys on the team as well. _Especially_ Jackson Whittemore. She would have to convince him to take her seriously if she ever wanted a shot at becoming a member of the team. Glancing over her shoulder when she felt eyes on her, she turned towards the school doors only to see Erica staring at her intently. Her body jolted when she remembered what she had walked over for. "Oh yeah! Hey, Stiles—"

_Riiiiiiing_.

The peal of the bell jumpstarted the sluggish students around the school. The three turned and joined the masses as they all herded inside. No matter, she could always talk to him later.

For now it was time for her first class of the day, English, of which she had with Stiles and Scott, thankfully. Unfortunately Erica wasn't in the class with them but having any sort of familiar face was better than nothing.

The class started off with the teacher talking about a dead body being found in the nearby woods, which got the class tittering with questions, of course. Even Melanie's interest was piqued. Things like that didn't just happen around Beacon Hills, not since the Hale House fire years ago. Glancing over her shoulder, she looked out of the corner of her eye to gauge Stiles' and Scott's reactions. They seemed to find the whole thing a joke.

Whatever.

Not long after the announcement the teacher directed their attention to their syllabus. Melanie hummed a tuneless song as she looked over the reading assignments, test dates, and—the most important part—the excuse policies. Melanie had begun to circle that section when the door opened and the Vice Principal entered with a tall girl by his side. She was introduced as Allison Argent and she took the empty seat behind Scott. Again, Melanie looked over her shoulder, this time to take a look at the new girl. Her eyebrows furrowed when Scott turned and gave her a pen.

How odd.

Giving her head a shake, Melanie turned back around to the front. If only she had turned sooner than she could have ignored the look of awe in his eye.

After a boring lecture about Kafka's _Metamorphosis_ the bell rang signaling the end of that class and the start of the five minute break to get to their next one. And so that class morphed into the next which melted into the next. Only Melanie wasn't paying that close attention to the day. She didn't need to, they only got syllabuses on the first day and the most homework they would get was to read something. Besides, the closer to lacrosse practice it got the more anxious she became. By the time the last bell of the day rang she bolted out of her seat as if she had been electrocuted.

Melanie left the room and made a beeline for her locker to swap out her books. Yanking open her locker door, she tossed her books in, making sure not to disturb the digital camera sitting on the top shelf. She closed her locker door only to turn and jump in startled fright when she saw she wasn't alone.

"Geeze—warn a girl!" she said as Allison lifted her head to look at her. "You're so damn quiet! Like a ninja."

"Thanks…I think," Allison said, slowly closing her door. "I'm Allison."

"I know," Melanie replied. "You got introduced at the start of English class. Kinda can't miss a name that's an alliteration." Leaning her shoulder against her locker door she glanced at Allison's outfit—of course it would look good on her—and then looked up at her. "'M Melanie."

Though it didn't seem as if Allison had heard her because her head was turned and she was smiling at something. Melanie tilted her head and sighed when she saw that her gaze was directed at Scott. Clearing her throat and shifting her weight, she had begun to move out of the way when Lydia Martin herself approached.

"That jacket is totally killer," she told Allison, one leg popping at the knee to shift her to a comfortable stance. "Where'd you get it?" Melanie wanted to wave her hand in Lydia's face and ask if she were invisible but there was no point. She already knew the answer and she didn't need Lydia Martin of all people reminding her.

"My mom was a buyer for a boutique back in San Francisco," Allison replied.

Melanie rolled her eyes. _Of course_.

"And _you_ are my new best friend," Lydia said in approval. _Probably just because of the jacket and fashion opportunities._ Right when Melanie was about to walk away—not like anyone would notice—she found her path blocked by Jackson. Her eyes jumped up to the ceiling when the two leaned in for a kiss. Her muscles twitched with her suppressed urge to shove her way through them but the she would start the year off on the wrong foot with him and, unfortunately, she needed him on her side. It was a uphill battle but one she was willing to fight. Even if it meant avoiding his elbow.

"So, this weekend, there's a party," Lydia continued.

"A party?" Allison repeated.

Jackson nodded. "Yeah - Friday night." He stretched out his arm and rested it on the locker above Melanie's head, still ignoring her. She wondered if she tickled him in the armpit if he would notice it. "You should come."

" Uh, I can't. It's family night this Friday," Allison declined, "Thanks for asking."

But Jackson relented, "You sure? Everyone's going after the scrimmage."

"You mean like football?" Allison asked.

Jackson laughed. "Football's a joke in Beacon. The sport here is lacrosse. We've won the state championship for the past three years."

Melanie's face twisted into an expression of disgust as Lydia ran her fingers though his hair all but cooed, "Because of a certain team captain. " _Gag me with a spoon._

"Well, we have practice in a few minutes," Jackson continued, "That is, if you don't have anywhere else—"

" Well, I was going to—" Allison started.

"Perfect - You're coming," Lydia interrupted, grabbing Allison's hand and dragged her behind them, leaving Melanie behind. She threw one arm into the air and shook her head in disbelief. But that annoyance didn't last long as she looked down at the envelope in her jacket pocket. Because in a few short minutes she was going to be trying out for Beacon Hill's lacrosse team.

###

"What in the world do you think you're doing on my field, Crowe?" Coach Finstock's loud, grating voice jarred Melanie out of the focus that she had built up as she adjusted the pads on her shoulders. Whirling around, she caught a glimpse of the strained look on Erica's face bleachers for support. It was quickly overshadowed by the thundering expression on Coach's face being shoved into her vision as he towered over her.

"T-Trying out for lacrosse," she replied beneath his stern gaze. "Sir," she added for good measure.

"I thought I told you last year that I would have no girls on my team!" His voice carried so far across the field that everyone stopped to see why he was yelling. Melanie's skin burned, whether that was from everyone looking at her or from the fact that a grown man was yelling at her she couldn't differentiate.

She had a fight ready that morning when she was all fired up over Scott forgetting to meet her. It was nice and articulate and to the point but now, beneath his gaze, words failed her. So, gulping, she reached a hand into her helmet and withdrew the letter. The paper shook and wavered in her unsteady palm as she handed it over.

"Th-the p-principal says you c-can't stop me from t-trying out," Melanie stuttered as Coach snatched it out of her hands. "H-he says there is n-no rule that a g-girl can't try out for the team." His eyes cut to her as she spoke and she squeaked out a timid "_Sir_" at the end.

"Coach! I'm not going to have some…some _girl_ ruin my chances of another championship just because she wants to stretch out her dyke legs," Jackson spat, storming off the field.

Coach didn't respond right away. His face was hidden by the paper in his hands. Melanie looked over his shoulder to see Stiles and Scott approaching with their own gear. Her eyes then swiveled over to Erica whose eyebrows were furrowed together and a look of concern was etched across her features, making her angry acne turn a little bit redder. Melanie made a mental note to find a better cover up for her.

"_Coach!_" Jackson barked.

"Just let her try, Coach." For a minute Melanie didn't know who the incoming voice belong to. She searched a couple of faces on the bench—they turned away from her as if they didn't want to be involved—and then she finally found one person who stared back at her. Isaac Lahey. She hadn't even noticed he was on the field, let alone knew that he could speak. _Imagine that_.

Turning back to Coach, she noticed that he was staring at her. His jaw clenched so hard she was sure she would hear it snap in different places. Tension in the air pressed down on her shoulders and wrapped around her throat, slowly constricting. She began to hum, an involuntary sound that she seemed to produce whenever she was in a stressful situation. And getting stared down by Coach Finstock was the definition of stressful.

"—_Fine!_" he hissed, throwing the paper back in her face. "Suit up and get in line." Gasping in surprise, Melanie started to turn away to do as she was told only to let out a yelp with Coach grabbed onto her ponytail to stop her. "Only don't go crying when you break a nail, got it?"

"Got it," she replied, grimacing underneath the pressure being placed on her scalp. Coach let go of her hair and turned his attention to his newest victim, Scott.

Sighing, Melanie turned back to her equipment when she felt _another_ hand on her hair. "Ow! Okay, can we not do that?" she asked, this time coming face to face with Jackson.

"What, are you on your period or something?" he hissed.

"Uh…no. Not for another…week and three days," she quickly calculated.

For a second Jackson's eyebrows furrowed, his eyelids squinted, and a look of disgust appeared on his ace. But it disappeared a moment later as the fire in his eye ignited once more. "Shut up, dumbass. If you want to be stupid enough to try out, you go right ahead. But I will _not_ let you ruin our championships chances just because you got the idea that you can throw your boobs aside and play. This is a _sport_, not some _baking_ competition, get it?"

"What does baking—?" she started but Jackson's grip tightened on her hair which silenced her words. Breathing harshly, he lowered his head until his mouth was next to her ear.

"I'm only going to say this _once_: I don't care that you're a girl. If you're in my way, I'll take you out of it. Got it?"

Melanie turned her head, looked him in the eye, and said as steadily as possible, "You'll have to catch me first."

He expelled a harsh breath through his nose and stomped off. Rubbing the back of her head, Melanie went to grab for her gear again. The sound of footsteps on metal made her look up to see Erica rushing down to her.

"Don't," Melanie said, stopping Erica before she could open her mouth. "I can handle it, Eri."

"They can't just put their hands on you like that," Erica hissed, lowering her voice.

"It's-it's fine," Melanie replied, brushing her hair back out of her face. "I can handle it, really. I just want to show them what I can do."

"Yeah, but it starts here and ends where? With you in the hospital?" Erica demanded. "Mellie, be reasonable."

"I _am_," Melanie replied. "I'm out here showing everyone that a girl can do as well as if not better than a guy. I've wanted to play lacrosse for Beacon Hills High for a long time. You _know_ this." She paused. "I want this, Erica. I really do. Why are you stopping me?"

"I don't want you to get hurt," Erica replied, briefly grabbing at her wild hair. Their efforts at taming it that morning didn't seem to hold. "You're the only friend I have. I can't get through this without you."

Melanie clapped her on her shoulder with her glove. "I'm not going anywhere, Erica. I will always be here for you, no matter what."

"Promise?" Erica held up her pinky. Melanie took off her glove, locked their pinkies together, and nodded.

"Promise."

"Crowe! This isn't a tea party!" Coach yelled. "Get in line!"

Melanie widened her eyes and sighed. Erica smiled a small smile and went back to the bleachers, sitting at the far end away from Allison and Lydia who had just showed up and sat down. Melanie shook her head and put on her helmet. As she locked it beneath her chin and peered out between the bars on her cage she locked eyes with Isaac. He was the first to tear his eyes away, grabbing his stick and got in line. Shaking out her nerves as best as she could, she grabbed her stick and joined the back of the line only to lean past everyone to see Scott in goal.

The whistle sounded and soon they were throwing balls in Scott's direction. The first one smacked hi on the helmet, knocking him over, causing a groan and a few laughs to pepper trough the spectators. Melanie bit her lip, silently urging Scott to get up. Thankfully he did and he seemed okay.

Or, more than okay if the next throw was of ay indication. He caught the ball easily, almost as if he knew where it was going before it was thrown. She wasn't the only one surprised. She could see Scott's smile from all the way at the half line. Even Coach was gobsmacked. Scott wasn't the _best_ player on the team but suddenly he could catch? He had been second line last year for a reason…right?

Another player took a shot. Scott caught that too, almost with little effort. ON the sidelines Stiles let out a high pitched cheer of astonishment. Shot after shot Scott caught, his net being in the right place at the right time. More students trickled out to the fields to see what was going on and what the cheering was about.

Finally it was Melanie's turn. She bounced up and down on her toes to get herself pumped up. She flashed a thumbs up sign to Erica, fixed her grip on her lacrosse stick, and stepped forward…

…only to have Jackson slap his lacrosse stick across hers, keeping her back. She opened her mouth to protest but he glared at her. It was enough to keep her rooted to the spot as he growled under his breath, ready to take Scott on. Seeing that look in his eye, she felt bad for him. She wouldn't want to go up against him when he looked _that_ crazy.

Jackson charged the goal and took a shot…only for Scott to catch that one too.

"Yeah! Go Scott!" Melanie cheered along with others on the sidelines. Jackson shot her a withering glare and then turned his stare over to Lydia in the stands who held his gaze.

Amidst Stiles cheers of "that's my best friend!" and the applause on the sidelines Melanie yanked off her helmet and squinted across the field. As much as she was impressed by his display one thought shot through her mind.

What had gotten into Scott McCall?

###

_**a/n**_ - _So, what did you think? This is my first foray into the Tee Wolf fandom and I know I'm a bit late starting in but I just started watching the show two days ago and I'm all caught up and this idea came to mind. I always thought Erica was an interesting character and thought she would have at least one friend so that's how this story started. It follows the events of the show starting from episode one but there will be deviations from it here and there to go along with what I have planned for this story. Thank you for taking the time to read this first chapter, please let me know what you think of it so far, especially with my character. Like her? Hate her? All constructive criticism is welcome. Enjoy!_

_Genres: (Sine ffn only lets us choose two.) Supernatural, Romance, Adventure, Hurt/Comfort, Family, Mystery, Angst, Suspense._

_Pairings: Isaac/OC, slight Erica/OC, Scallison, Jydia, Berica_


	2. Don't Believe the Myth

**Chapter 2: Don't Believe the Myth  
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"So what happened after I left? Were you able to get a chance to show off your skills?" Erica's question seemed to overtake all sound in Melanie's room due to her putting her phone on speaker. She didn't want to keep her head tilted while she practiced her stick handling and end up with a crick in her neck. Coach was looking for any excuse to make sure she wasn't on the team, it seemed. Not that he needed to do that by himself, Jackson seemed to have the same plan in mind.

"Not really," Melanie replied, twisting her stick in her grip as she paced. "Coach kept Scott in goal for the most part and Jackson wouldn't let anyone else take him on until he got a shot in. By the time that happened we only had fifteen minutes left which were reserved for conditioning." Her lungs still ached from the sprints they were ordered to do. The hot bath she took once she got home felt like heaven on her overworked muscles.

"Aww, that sucks. But you have another practice tomorrow, right?"

"Yeah. We figure out if we're first string or not. If we don't make it we're benched for the rest of the season and don't play." Melanie sighed. "I _have_ to make the team, Eri, I just have to. If I don't I'll die."

Erica's laugh filled the air. "Didn't you say the same thing about seeing Simple Plan in concert?"

"And look who's still alive," Melanie pointed out, causing the two girls to burst into laughter. Once it subsided, Melanie dropped her stick onto her bed and sat down in her computer chair. Pulling her phone closer to her laptop, she began clicking around on the open tabs. "Can you believe how amazing Scott was today?"

"He did so well. It's strange, he wasn't this good last year," Erica commented.

"Yeah. What in the world made him better in one day? D'you think he was bitten by some radioactive spider?"

"Well, we haven't seen giant spider webs in town so I think that can be ruled out." The phone crackled as she sighed. "Maybe he just improved."

"Overnight?" Melanie's eyebrow lifted to reflect the incredulous tone attached to her words. "While Stiles is still hopeless?"

"Well, you're asking the wrong girl. I don't know much about sports."

"Fair point. Hey, did you hear anything else about that dead body in the woods?"

"No, I haven't heard a thing. I don't think I want to either."

Melanie ignored her statement as she continued speaking. "So I was trying to figure out what it could be that would have attacked and killed that person. I mean, it was split in half, so I hear. And what kind of animal out here would do that?"

"Melanie," Erica started.

Melanie ignored her again. "I looked some stuff up and then I realized—duh!—it's freaking obvious what it was!"

"Mel."

"It was a wendigo! It had to be a wendigo. See, a wendigo is a demonic half-beast that can possess characteristics of a human or a monster that had transformed from a person. And you want to know what they're known for? Cannibalism. Yeah! Cannibalism! Can you believe that? It has this emaciated frame, thin skin, and no lips because, supposedly, they eat them. Sick, huh? Anyway, I was thinking—"

"_Melanie_!" Erica shouted, successfully stopping her friend's stream of information. "For one thing, that's disgusting and I think you've been reading too many mythology books. For another, I don't think that a…windigo?...is an actual thing, let alone something that attacked someone in the woods. And for another, did you ever talk to Stiles?"

Melanie sucked in a breath, her nose wrinkling simultaneously. She had spoken to Stiles throughout the day…just not about what she wanted her to talk to him about. But, in her defense, it was hard to bring the subject up because Scott was either talking about Allison or Stiles was talking about Lydia. Having one obsessed boy on her hands was one thing but having them both? That was another. It was enough to make her want to stab her eardrums with sharpened pencils.

"Sorry, I never got a chance to bring it up. But, I mean, this is _Stiles_ we're talking about. It's a very safe bet that he doesn't have a girlfriend," she reasoned, leaning back in her chair. At the sound of a knock on her door she tilted her head back all the way to see who it was that was standing in her doorway.

"Dinner's ready," her father, Laurence, said.

"Alright, I'll be right there. I'm just talking to Erica," Melanie replied, lifting her head so she was sitting up straight. She blinked; her hands held up in midair, and then grasped her head. "Whoa, head rush. Anyway, I'll talk to him tomorrow."

"Promise?"

"Promise. Orrrr….y'know, you could talk to him yourself?"

"No way," Erica replied almost immediately. Melanie huffed. She had known Stiles and Scott as long as Melanie had known them and yet she had hardly said ten words to them in the past few years alone. Her crush on Stiles couldn't be _that_ debilitating could it?

"Eri, they're cool guys. I mean, the rest of the school may not think so but they're fun to spend time with. And just once I want to have lunch with all of you instead of having to pick and choose."

Erica sighed. For a while she didn't say anything in response. Melanie even had to check her phone to be sure that she was still on the line and they hadn't been disconnected. "It's just…too complicated." Melanie pressed her lips together. Complicated was code for she didn't feel comfortable enough with herself to want to put herself out there and sit with them. And it bugged her. Here she thought Erica was one of the coolest people in the world but that meant nothing if she didn't believe it herself. "I don't get why you even want to be seen with me sometimes."

"Because I don't give a shit what others think, the only opinion I care about is yours," Melanie replied almost automatically. "And the only one _you_ should care about is mine and I think you're fucking awesome." She held up her finger when her father cleared her throat. "Look, I have to go eat. But after dinner maybe you could help me with Chemistry 'cause none of this is making sense to me."

"Sure. Once you get the formulas it's pretty easy."

"Says the girl who's held a 3.8 GPA since middle school."

"Well, when you have no one else to hang out with studying becomes something to do to fill time."

Ignoring her comment Melanie bid her goodbye and jabbed her phone screen to hang up the phone. Spinning around in her chair, she faced the door and stood. Stretching her arms above her head, she staggered forward and leaned into her father's side as he wrapped his arms around her in a hug.

"Good day?" he asked, rubbing her back as they went downstairs. The scent of cooked dinner wafted up the stairs and met them halfway. Her stomach growled and her mouth watered as she inhaled the smells.

"Yeah, I guess," Melanie replied. The two entered the kitchen right as her mother, Arabella, took her seat that the small round table. She and Laurence sat down in their respectful places, bowed their heads for a quick grace, and began passing around dishes to serve helpings on their plates. "As good as the first day back can be," she said, continuing the conversation. "Coach Finstock is letting me try out for the team, though, so that's good."

"This late in the season?" Arabella asked, pausing with her fork to her mouth.

"Well, it would have been earlier if I didn't have that concussion," Melanie explained, licking cheese sauce off her thumb. "It wasn't even that bad but Coach didn't want to risk it, so he says. Anyway, because the principal is on my side I can try out. Didn't get much in today, though. Somehow Scott got crazy good and so Jackson's ego was bruised and he wouldn't let anyone else go against him. But tomorrow we play for first line so hopefully I'll have my chance then. Cross your fingers."

"Jackson," Arabella said slowly. "That Whittemore boy? The one that's a bit…overzealous?" The worry in her tone wasn't lost on Melanie. It didn't help that her eyebrows were knitted together to the point that it made her worry lines deepen.

"He's focused," Melanie corrected her. _Focused to the point of wanting to annihilate anything in his path._ "But if I'm going to be on the team I'll have to beat the best, and that's him." She shoved macaroni into her mouth to avoid having to answer any question that her mother may ask next. After all, it was rude to talk with her mouth full.

"Sweetie, maybe you should rethink this," Arabella said, reaching for her glass of wine. "You could get hurt. You're smaller than those boys."

"She can use that to her advantage," Laurence jumped in. He paused to cut a piece of steak and placed it in his mouth. "She's lower to the ground for a better center of gravity and she could be quicker than some of the boys."

"Yes, but what I am saying is that they may not take it kindly that a girl is on the team," Arabella commented.

"So long as she proves her worth it shouldn't matter."

"Laurence, you're not hearing me."

"I'm hearing you fine, honey."

"Okay, we don't even know if I've made the team yet. No sense in worrying about the 'what ifs', right?" Melanie jumped in, trying to change the subject to a better topic. The tension settled upon them like a sudden rain storm. She could almost see gray clouds growing above their heads.

"What if she makes it on the team, what then?" Arabella demanded, clutching her wine glass in her hand. Her knuckles began to turn white at how hard she was gripping the glass.

"Then she plays," Laurence replied as if it were the most obvious answer in the world.

"And it's that easy?"

"Yes."

"_No._ What if she gets hazed? What if she gets teased? What if she gets bullied?"

"Look, I can handle whatever the guys throw my way," Melanie tried to speak up. "I have Scott and Stiles there and—"

"Honey, please," Arabella interrupted her. She finally set down her wine glass and crossed her arms over her chest. Her bright blue eyes bore into her husband as she broke her usually proper posture to slump in her seat. "Your father and I are having a discussion."

"I know. About me. And since I'm the subject I would like to think that I get a say in it," Melanie continued. "Let's just have dinner."

But she could already tell that her pleas were falling on deaf ears. That hard look appeared in their eyes, which meant they weren't going to give up anytime soon. Which only meant that one or both of them were going to go to bed angry.

Melanie slumped in her chair and picked at her food, having lost her appetite. Their arguments had become a bit more frequent, she couldn't help but notice. It started out as the odd argument here and there as the holidays drew near. She had attributed it to stress since their arguments stopped around Christmas and New Years. But as soon as the date changed to January 2nd the petty fights started up again. A dish wasn't dried completely. Shoes were left by the front door. A silverware drawer had been left open. And would it kill them to remember to close the cabinet door?

"I just don't want her to get hurt, Laurence," Arabella continued.

"And you think _I_ do?"

"I didn't say that!"

Heaving a sigh, Melanie pushed back against the small table. Her chair scraped against the floor at the effort. She thought that, of all things, would stop them from fighting but it was as if they hadn't heard a sound. Figures. Abandoning her food, she took the stairs two at a time and went back to her room. Dropping down in her chair, she whirled around and woke up her computer screen right as she got a skype call.

"You have amazing timing," she relayed to Erica.

"I was taking a chance that you were back by now. You eat fast," she replied. She was lying down on her bed, clad in her sweats. Her legs kicked through the air as she flipped through the pages in a textbook.

"Actually, I barely ate. Couldn't get anything down with the atmosphere down there," Melanie relayed, slumping in her seat.

Erica paused, a highlighter hanging out of the corner of her mouth. "They're fighting again?"

Melanie rubbed her eyes and yawned. "Yep, over lacrosse this time. Mom's worried I'll get hurt. I mean, I don't _blame_ her but…I was hoping she'd give some support."

"You're her only kid, it's understandable." Erica paused and then a sly smile appeared on her face. "Hey, take a look under your pillow."

"Why? Did you put Alex Pettyfer there?" Melanie joked as she pulled out the plug so she could move to her bed. She pried her shoes off her feet by stepping on the heels and then rested against the mountain of pillows that lay against the headboard. Once she was comfortable she stuck her hand beneath the pillows and felt something crinkle. Eyebrows furrowed, she pulled it out and then grinned at Erica's enthusiastic "tah dah!"

"Erica! When did you do this?" Melanie asked, laughing in glee as she dug her hand into the bag of mini Snickers that now lay on her keyboard.

"I asked my mom to stop by after my appointment," she replied. She propped her cheek upon her palm; her blond hair cascaded to one side. "I didn't anticipate your parents' fighting but I thought it would come in handy after your practice today."

"See, this is why I love you and we'll be married one day. Mark my words." Melanie tugged the wrapping paper off the candy and bit it in half. "And we'll have it on the beach with a bonfire reception like we've always wanted. Remember? With fireworks and sparklers and mason jars to catch fireflies."

"And twinkly lights?" Erica asked.

"Yeah," Melanie replied, getting comfortable against the pillows. "And twinkly lights."

**# # #**

The next morning roused Melanie bright and early due to the sounds of the kitchen door slamming shut, Arabella on her way to open up the town's local flower shop, of which Melanie helped out sometimes, and Laurence on his way to the town's motorcycle dealership.

They made a weird pair at face value. Laurence a tall, handsome, muscular man with a stubble-covered chin, heavy eyebrows, and dark eyes that appeared intimidating at first glance. It probably didn't help that some nights he took to teaching MMA fighting style to those willing to learn. As compared to Arabella, a graceful, thin thing who always knew what to wear, what to say, and what to do. A hair was never out of place on her head, her makeup was always on point, and she had an air about her so peaceful that anyone speaking to them became conflicted on how to react. Melanie swore she modeled once at one point but her mother always shot down her claims.

Rubbing her tired eyes, she brushed crud away and yawned. After an all night stud marathon with Erica over Chemistry, History, and Economics she wasn't particularly excited to have to go over it again in school of all places. But it was another day for her to try and show Coach Finstock she knew what she was doing and that was her only motivation for getting up for the day.

Pushing aside her laptop, which was still open to a tab about super humans, she grabbed her clothes for the day and jumped in the shower. She turned up the volume on her water-proof radio and sung along to the current Top 40 hits that played one right after another. Some people thought in the shower, she held a concert in the shower along, shampoo bottle microphone and all.

After two encores, she finally stepped out of the shower and dried off. She dried her hair, brushed her teeth, and jumped into her clothes once she noticed the time on the clock on the wall. She was going to be late picking up Erica. Leave it to the girl still not having her license. Mrs. Reyes claimed it was because she wasn't ready for it but they both knew why: she didn't want to risk Erica having a seizure behind the wheel.

If she were to be honest with herself, Melanie was worried about that as well. She was used to Erica's random seizures by now. Hell, with the whole YouTube video fiasco she was the only one who knew _not_ to put anything in her mouth because she could break her teeth. In fact, Melanie was sure that Erica biting through her tongue was a better risk than breaking her teeth.

The first time she had seen Erica have a seizure was when they had just started middle school and were having a sleepover to celebrate getting through the first week. There they were, sitting on Melanie bed, eating candy and playing computer games when she noticed that something was off with Erica.

She was sitting against her headboard but she wasn't moving. Her eyes rolled in her head and when they weren't she was staring off into the distance. Melanie screamed for her parents and they came charging in in a flurry. It wasn't long after that she had learned that Erica was epileptic and that she had been skipping some of her medication.

"I just wanted to be normal," she said when Melanie asked her about it the next day. "I wanted to be like everyone else." Thankfully it was only a petit mal seizure and not a grand mal seizure that Erica had experienced. Ever since that day Melanie made sure to check on Erica's medication routine, acting like a second mother in that respect, all the while making it her mission to help Erica realize that she was like everyone else and she was normal and, no, she wasn't fat. Middle School was a trying time on its own, Erica didn't deserve the extra pressure. But hey, teens were cruel, what could they do?

Grabbing her backpack and lacrosse stick, Melanie shoved her phone into her pocket and raced down the stairs. She ran into the kitchen to grab an apple and then ran out the door to her truck…only to run back and lock the door she had forgotten about and then jump into her truck.

Throwing her bag and stick to the back, she slammed the door shut and turned the keys in the ignition. Her truck roared to life. Shifting the car into the reverse, she jammed her foot against the gas pedal and shot backwards out of the driveway. It was a good thing she looked in the rearview mirror as she went for, in the last second, something popped into her view.

"_Shit!_" she yelled, stomping on the brakes. With a loud squeak her truck stopped. Heart beating hard in her chest, she put the vehicle into park and shakily got out. Swallowing the lump that had risen in her throat, she slowly walked to the back of the car to see what it was that had made her stop. Right behind her back left tire was a trembling, brown and black ball. Crouching, Melanie got closer to get a better look. "Hey, it's okay," she cooed to the little thing. "It's okay. You can come out now."

As she reached her hands forward she saw that the little ball had four feet, a tail, and big brown eyes. It was a German Shepherd puppy. She gently wrapped her arms around the puppy's torso and held him close to her chest. Its small body continued to tremble in her arms as she went back to her truck. She would just take a little detour to the Beacon Hills Animal Clinic and then get on her way to school; just to be sure it was alright.

**# # #**

"Oh, so _that's_ why you were so late this morning," Erica mused aloud as she leaned against the locker right by Melanie's as she pulled books out of her backpack and shoved them into her locker. It was the middle of the day and the first time Melanie really had a chance to explain what had gone on that morning. After dropping the puppy off with Dr. Deaton she had raced to get Erica and drove them to school as fast as she could to make sure they made it in before first bell. Thankfully, they had, even with the dance party they had in the car on the way over. But it hadn't given them enough time to talk before classes started. "I hope the puppy's okay."

"Well, I didn't run it over so I think it's a safe bet that it's fine," Melanie replied. "Although he said he's going to call me later and then put up lost dog signs." She shoved her stick into her locker and started pulling out more books. "It had no tags so my guess is that it was recently purchased for someone."

"Or abandoned," Erica said quietly.

Melanie paused, a sick feeling twisting in her stomach at the mere idea. "Or that," she agreed. "But if it's not claimed in a certain amount of time he said I can keep it. I've always wanted a dog."

"Yeah, but will your mom let you have one?" Erica asked.

Melanie shrugged. "I can get my dad to convince her. That can't be too hard." Deep inside of her she scoffed. Who was she kidding? Trying to convince her would probably end up in another fight but se was sure once her mother saw the little dog's face she would be won over immediately. She already was checked her phone every five minutes. In fact, she instinctively looked down again.

"Waiting for something?" Melanie lifted her head as Allison approached her locker. Erica muttered something and moved out of her way. Allison's eyebrows lifted as she opened her locker door, waiting for Melanie to answer.

"Oh. Uhm, yeah. Just a phone call is all," she replied, shoving her phone into her pocket. "S'not all that important."

Smiling gently Allison closed her locker door and replaced the lock. "They're all important when it comes to girls, right?" she asked softly.

Before Melanie could answer the bell rang. Students milling by their lockers were now on the move. "I got French now so I'll catch you later, Eri," she told Erica.

"At lunch?" she asked. "It's pizza day."

"Definitely!" Melanie replied, her eyes lighting up at the news. "You get the pizza, I'll save a table."

"Deal." The two high fived and Erica rushed off to her class.

Melanie turned around to get to her class only to jump and flinch when she noticed Allison still standing there. "Geeze!" she cried out, her hand jumping to he chest. Her heart beat hard beneath her skin. She sighed, "A ninja, I'm telling you."

"Sorry," Allison said, tucking her hair behind her ear. "It's just…you said you had French now. And I have that class too. I figured we could…walk together."

Melanie had to stop her nose from wrinkling. Something about the new girl was off to her, rubbed her the wrong way, but then she sighed. She knew what it was like to be the new kid and being a new kid in high school wasn't easy. Even I she did have Lydia Martin on her side. So, pushing aside her initial annoyance she nodded her head, signaling them forward. "You have Ms. Morrell, right?" she asked. Allison nodded. "Good. She's the best French teacher in the world. You got lucky."

"Oh? Well that's good," Allison said. "I haven't been taking French long. I still get some of the conjugations wrong." Melanie's eyebrows furrowed. The statement had her a bit confused. Her last name was a French one if she wasn't mistaken, so how couldn't she…? Then she mentally slapped herself. _Just because she may possibly be of French origin doesn't mean she actually knows the language, dummy._ Melanie was pulled out of her thoughts when Allison cleared her throat. "How long have you been taking French?"

"Me? Oh just since Middle School," Melanie replied with a wave of her hand. In actuality she had studied French a lot longer only due to a deal her mother had made her when she was younger. Melanie wanted to take singing lessons but her mother wanted her to take French lessons instead to try and make her more "cultured". Eventually they reached a compromise; Melanie could take her lessons so long as she got good marks on any French test her tutor brought to her. "It's not that hard of a language, I don't think. You just have to remember everything is masculine or feminine."

That made Allison chuckle. "I always found that a bit silly, giving objects genders."

Melanie couldn't help but laugh as well. It _was_ a funny thought. "Yeah, how are we supposed to tell if an apple is a boy or a girl anyway?"

Changing her voice to a stage whisper Allison said, "By the length of their stem. But they don't want us checking for that. Modesty and all."

By the time the two girls reached the classroom their cheeks were bright red from laughing so hard. They slipped in just before Ms. Morrell closed the door and they took the two remaining seats left in front of Isaac. Allison chose the furthest one away leaving Melanie to sit in front of him. She lifted her chin in acknowledgement of him in a very sporty manner. All he did was blink in response. Okay, whatever. Melanie sat down and got out her notebook.

"So," Allison whispered, turning around. Melanie lifted an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue. But she paused and played with one of the bent spirals on her notebook, her eyes downcast. Finally she sighed, looked up at Melanie and said, "I hear you're friends with Scott?"

"And Stiles," Melanie replied. "Kinda," she added. "We're not best friends, not like those two are, but we are decent friends. Good friends, I guess." Her nose wrinkled. It was weird trying to decipher what they were. While she didn't eat with them every day and didn't hang out with them as much as she did Erica she did consider them friends. That was good enough. Then her eyes narrowed as she remembered the way they were looking at each other the day before. Her muscles tensed in preparation. "Why?" she hoped she didn't sound as suspicious as she felt.

"Oh, I just—"

But Allison couldn't finish for Ms. Morrell started clapping her hands, asking them for their attention. Once she had it she stood at the front of the room and leaned on her desk. "Okay, class. As we've been covering so far, we are going to continue to learn about travel and geography in this semester. So what better way to start off the semester than with a project?" That earned groans from the class of which se brushed off. "It won't be long. All you are going to do is research a country in Europe and explain why you would like to visit as well as give a few facts about the culture. You will split into groups of two."

At this Allison turned around and widened her eyes, silently asking for Melanie to be her partner. She hesitated and licked her lips. Ms. Morrell clapped her hands again to get everyone's attention. "The groups have already been picked out and the countries have already been assigned. Please, make your way to the library. The rest of the class will be dedicated to beginning your research."

Collecting her books, Melanie followed the masses to the library. While in the hall she lifted the headphones that had been resting around her neck and placed them over her ears. Ms. Morrell usually didn't mind if they listened to music while they worked so long as their duties were divided up in a way that both partners had a chance to get equal work done.

Once entering the library Melanie was told that she was assigned Greece which excited her. She had always been into Greek Mythology. Skipping off to the world travel section and singing along to the song playing beneath her breath, she dragged her fingers along some of the book spines until she found a few books that grabbed her attention. She even got a few mythology books for good measure, and so she could read about it while under the guise of actually working.

Now dancing a little due to the pop music that flowed through her ears, she carried her books back to the table she had chosen. Setting them down, she turned to her backpack and began to dig her for her notebook. Once she pulled it out she finally let gravity take her down to sit in a chair…

…only to sit on someone's lap instead.

"_Holy shit_!" she shrieked in surprised, jumping up. In her haste to back away, the backs of her knees hit the other chair behind her and she fell end over end onto the floor in a heap. She popped back onto her feet in a second, cheeks flushed red in embarrassment as she looked around. Sure enough, she had everyone's attention. Throwing her arms into the air she cheered "and she _sticks_ the landing!" earning a few laughs. Setting her chair upright she sat down and then rubbed her face in her hands. Only when the overwhelming feeling of being watched got to her she spread her fingers and looked through them to see that it was Isaac, of all people, was sitting next to her and looking at her. "Sorry!" she squeaked, dropping her hands. "I-I didn't see you there. This school, full of ninjas. You were so quiet. I didn't even…and I _sat_ on you! Oh god, I'm so sorry!"

"It's-it's okay," he replied, rubbing the back of his neck. "You probably couldn't hear because of the…" he pointed to his ears.

What? Melanie reached her hands up and then smacked herself in the forehead with her palm. She had completely forgotten she was wearing headphones. She slowly took them off her ears and hung them around her neck. Silence stretched out between them. Melanie began to hum. Then, for something to do, she grabbed the books she had dropped onto the table and pulled them towards her.

"So! Greece! We got a good one, eh?" she asked, trying to make conversation as she flipped through the pages. "I thought we could talk about some mythology, if that's alright with you. Maybe act something out?" At the way his eyes widened and the expression of horror on his face she quickly backtracked. "Okay! No acting. I get it. But maybe we can choose one story and stick with that? Like…." she flipped pages so rapidly that, unsurprisingly to her, she got a papercut. "Ouch," she muttered, turning her thumb over to look at the cut. It wasn't too bad but it stung.

"Y-you okay?" Isaac asked, looking over at her.

She nodded her head. "Yeah. A papercut's not gonna stop me. I have a practice to dominate after all." _If I ever get a chance to get on the field today, that is_. Licking her thumb again, she turned a few more pages and then stopped on a picture of a naked bird-like woman. Well, her body was all woman but she had wings growing out of her back and she was sitting on rocks, beckoning to a boat. Melanie's eye swiveled over to the large words on the other page that announced what that chapter was about: Sirens. "What?" she asked, looking up again to find Isaac looking at her.

"It's just…you're still trying out?" he asked, playing with a pen in his hands. "For lacrosse, I mean?"

"Yeah," Melanie replied sternly. "Is that a problem?" She wondered how long it would take for him to join the masses of the team. Did Jackson get to him too?

Isaac shook his head. "No. I don't. I'm just checking." He fell silent. Thinking the conversation was over; Melanie grabbed her notebook and flipped it open to a blank page. She hesitated for a moment, wondering she should write her notes in French or English first. Shrugging, she went with ease and decided to write it down in English first. "I-I think it's cool," he added.

He spoke so suddenly Melanie had no idea what he was talking about. "You think what's cool?" she asked.

"Oh, uhm, that you want to play on the team," he explain, tapping his pen against his palm.

"Oh!" She smiled and tucked her hair behind her ear. "Thanks." She held his gaze for a moment and then went back to writing her notes. Isaac followed her lead and opened up a book. "I just hope it all works out," she muttered under her breath. Who knows what practice would be like today if Scott's sudden improvements weren't a fluke.

###

_**a/n**_ - Thanks for the reviews, favs, and alerts so far! I'm glad to see that people like this story and find Melanie like a real girl. As if you couldn't tell already, I love writing Erica's and Melanie's friendship. It puts warm fuzzies in my heart. They're just so cute together. It makes me a bit sad writing it sometimes with what I already have planned in mind but it must be done. And there was more Isaac in this chapter! Yay Isaac! Knowing how important he becomes later I threw him in so there wasn't too much backstory in this chapter. I can't give Melanie away all at once, right? So, she's already a bit suspicious of the goings on around Beacon Hills but how much does she _really_ know? You're going to have to keep reading to find out! Please review and enjoy! Constructive criticism is welcomed._  
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	3. Something's Fishy

**Chapter 3: Something's Fishy**

After practice that afternoon Melanie did her best to walk and make sure it looked like she was okay despite feeling pain all over her body. She knew the boys wouldn't go easy on her in practice but she didn't expect to be in _that_ much pain. Even her eyelashes hurt. Jackson's vendetta against Scott seemed to spill over to everyone else. Anyone that was in his way he bulldozed over, including her. He knocked her around, slammed into her, smacked at her wrists with his stick, pushed her aside, whipped the ball at any part of her that wasn't protected, anything he could do to show that he didn't consider her an opponent.

But despite all of that she did her best to show why she deserved to be on the team. She ran faster than a good chunk of the boys and being smaller had its evasive advantages. Her catching and stick handling could do with some more improvement but out of ten shots on goal she managed to make six. She worked hard to push through the pain and keep up with the boys. Having Scott and Stiles shouting encouragement when they weren't playing helped her a lot.

But even after all that she had to keep her head up high and any trace of pain off her face as she did her best not to limp back to the locker room once practice was over with. Jackson sure did a number on her, if she were to be honest. Of course she wouldn't say that to his face, why give him another reason to ridicule her.

He was a weird one. His lacrosse captain status made him a raging lunatic whenever the season started up, which amplified his jerkish tendencies. But when it came to the swim season he seemed a bit mellower towards her, which was saying something. Maybe it helped that she was one of the top swimmers on the team.

It was almost like she was a fish when she was in the water, she could swim for days if it were humanly possible. There was nothing that could ease her mind better than a good swim. She would go for it now but she wasn't sure that her arms or legs would work properly enough to keep her above water.

As she slowly pulled off her padding she thought back to how Scot dominated the field again. It just didn't make sense. This wasn't a Disney movie, how could he go from zero to hero so fast? Crossing her arms, she grabbed the hem of her practice shirt and pulled it off over her head. Her mind briefly went to drugs as a solution but then she wiped that away. Steroids didn't work that fast, not overnight. So what could it be?

Her mind didn't get a chance to come up with any sort of explanation when the door opened. Expected to see Erica, Melanie leaned forward to greet her but felt her words dying on her tongue when Lydia flounced in with Allison walking in behind her.

"Yeah?" Melanie asked, brushing her sweaty bangs off her forehead. She couldn't be the only one who found the visit weird. She and Lydia have hardly spoken to each other over the years.

"Okay, I'm only going to say this once," Lydia said while brushing her hair off her shoulder. "We just wanted to say that we think it's…_interesting_ that you want to try out for the lacrosse team." She wrapped one arm across her stomach while holding her other up, her purse hanging from the crook in her elbow.

"Thank…you," Melanie said slowly, her eyes shifting back and forth between the two girls. Did Lydia Martin just give her a compliment? Was the world ending?

"What she means is we and the rest of the girls thinks it's great what you're doing," Allison said, her hands gripping the strap of her cross-body bag.

"Yeah, only, make sure you stay out of Jackson's way," Lydia continued. She popped open her purse and dug around until she found her compact mirror and lipgloss. With a few swipes of the wand across her lips, she pinched it shut and then fluffed up her hair. "This may be revolutionizing to the school and all but if you cost us the championship…you'll regret it." She then smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes.

Melanie stared as, with a flip of her hair, Lydia turned and stalked out of the locker room. Allison glanced at Melanie over her shoulder before following her friend out. Melanie let out the breath she had been holding. That wasn't as bad as she expected but it still left he reeling. Lydia was a strong force at the school; she could get anyone to do what she wanted, especially with having the lacrosse team on her side. Angering her _and_ them was not an option if she wanted to live to see her graduation.

"Owww," she whimpered as she tried to tug a t-shirt down over her head. The angry bruise on her ribs was going to take a long while to go away, she could already tell. Now how was she going to hide it from her mom? Good thing she didn't have to worry about it just yet, she still had to stop by the Animal Clinic and drop Erica off at her house.

Finally managing to change back into her school clothes, which took a good ten minutes, she grabbed her bag and lacrosse stick and dragged them to the door to leave. She pushed open the door and had managed to get her backpack up on her shoulder only to stop when she came face to face with Stiles who was smiling at her. It was a creepy sort of smile that made her stop in her tracks.

"Dear god. That'd be a good face to use next Halloween, scare all the children away," she commented.

"Ha! You're so funny, Mels! What a knee slapper!" Stiles said loudly, reaching out to pat her arm. "This girl – so funny," he addressed the air next to him as if someone was there, jerking his thumb at her. "You're a riot, Crowe, that you are. A real…riot. Yeah." He stopped laughing and then popped his lips. "So! Can I borrow some of your books?"

Melanie blinked, her mind still reeling from his odd spiel. But that was Stiles for you, he was a bit odd. "What books?" she asked.

"Your supernatural books. The ones with ghosts and monsters and beings and stuff in them," he replied. "_Those_ books."

"Oh!" She knew which ones he was referring to. She had only read them religiously throughout middle school. She didn't even need to look at them anymore to be able to recall information from it at the drop of a hat. "Yeah, I guess so. I mean, I don't have them on me right now but I can bring them in for you tomorrow."

"You will? Aw yes! Thanks! You rock!" he cheered, punching his fist into the air. "Great job on the field today, too."

"Mmm, you mean when I wasn't being body slammed into the ground by Whittemore?" Melanie asked, rolling her eyes. "Like, geeze, I get the guy's obsessed with Scott's new found powers and everything but….grrr! Can he lighten up?"

"Powers? Why powers? Why'd you say powers? Why powers?" Stiles demanded. His eyes were wide and he scratched behind his ear as he rattled off at the mouth. "I mean, ah, it's a very strange word to use, powers. Now that I think about it that's a weird word – powers. It's like combining 'pow' and 'flowers' only – uh – not really. Y'know?"

"No," Melanie replied deadpan. Her head tilted in concern as she stared at him. His eyes darted around the longer she stared at him. Clicking her tongue, she stepped forward and whispered, "How much Adderall have you taken today?"

"Oh, not that much, really!" Stiles replied, rubbing the back of his neck as he backed away from her. "So you'll bring the books in? Great! Thanks! See you later!" He flashed a double thumbs up, turned, and then bolted down the hallway. Melanie stood still as she listened to his quickly fading footsteps and then the distinct sound of the door slamming open.

"Okayyy, weirdo," Melanie muttered aloud. Lifting her bag higher, she went out the closest door to her and walked around the school building to the parking lot where Erica was waiting by her truck. "Sorry to keep you waiting. I had a run in with Lydia."

"_Lydia_?" Erica repeated, eyes wide. "Lydia wanted to talk to you?"

"I know, crazy right? Yeah, she and Allison were saying, basically, how they were glad that I'm trying to get on the lacrosse team and how I'm an inspiration to women everywhere or something." She threw her backpack and stick into the bed of her truck, unlocked the door with the push of a button, and climbed into the driver's seat. "Oww," she muttered under her breath. She tried to cut it off before Erica heard but it didn't stop her friend from catching on.

"I knew you'd get hurt," Erica said as she buckled up. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine. Nothing a bath can't cure." _And a whole jar of cover up added in for good measure. _She stopped reversing when she noticed the stern expression on Erica's face. "_Really_. It's not that bad."

Erica rolled her eyes and crossed her arms. "On a scale of one to ten, how much pain are you in?" she demanded.

Melanie tapped her fingers against the steering wheel. "How honest do you want me to be?" she asked, stalling for time.

"Extremely."

"_Oh my god,_ _I'm gonna die!_" Melanie wailed, her shoulders slumping as she gave into the pain that took over her body. Erica threw her head back and laughed. Melanie tried to glare at her but her lips started twitching and pressure built up in her stomach until she couldn't take it anymore and she burst into laughter as well.

**###**

"Where was it that you found the little guy?" Dr. Deaton asked as he turned the german shepherd puppy over in his hands. The little dog opened his mouth and tried to gnaw on his glove covered fingers. Chuckling, Dr. Deaton turned him around to look in its mouth.

"I was leaving home this morning and almost ran him over," Melanie replied, pulling her ponytail over her shoulder and tugged on the ends of her hair. "I think he just wandered into my yard. I almost didn't see him in time."

"It's a good thing you did. This little guy isn't that old, a couple months at the most," Dr. Deaton said as he continued looking the puppy over. "Doesn't seem to have any sort of trauma. He's a little malnourished, though. We would like to keep him here overnight just to be sure he gets the proper nutrients and then start to look for his owners."

"Okay, thank you," Melanie said with a nod. Dr. Deaton smiled, picked up the puppy, and then carried him into the back room. "Is it bad that I kinda don't want anyone to claim him?" she addressed Scott who had been sweeping dust off of the office floor.

"Nah, I feel the same way whenever I come in," he replied with a kind smile. "It's hard to see those cute little faces pressed up against the bars. The good thing is that most of them have owners so I don't get too attached."

"What about the ones that don't have owners?" she asked.

He hesitated, eyes briefly glancing at the floor before he spoke, "We have to take them to a shelter. And if no one gets them from there…they have to be put down." He sighed. "I'd adopt them all if I could but, you know Mom, she already has her hands full with me."

"Yeah, we don't need any more puppy eyes around us," Melanie joked, reaching out to ruffle his hair. He chuckled in a bashful manner and fixed his now mussed hair. A second later a thought occurred to her ad she said nonchalantly, "Oh, by the way, Allison asked me about you."

She watched in amusement as Scott nearly dropped the broom he had been holding. It took him a few tries to get it back in an upright position. Once it stood tall, he rested his body weight against it and peered at her. "She did?" he asked. "Wha-what did she say? Er, ask?"

Melanie pressed her lips together to suppress a laugh. "All she asked was if I was friends with you," she replied. "See, it was before French class and after I told her that we were friendly she was going to ask or say something else but then class started and we never got a chance to talk after that. Sorry." Scott nodded his head and looked down at his hands. "Oh!" She slapped her palm against her forehead. "Also! Does Stiles have a girlfriend?" Erica had asked her to ask Stiles but asking _Scott_ was close enough, wasn't it? They were almost the same person, anyway.

Blinking at the sudden topic change, Scott slowly shook his head. "No, he's single," he replied. He paused, head tilting, and then asked, "Why? Do you like him? Do you want to go out with him?"

"What? Me? No!" Melanie replied, her eyes widening in horror. "No! I'm asking for a friend!"

"Is…is there really a friend?" he continued. "Because people say that all the time. That they're asking for a friend, when they're actually the friend they're asking for. Are _you_ the friend?"

"I'm not the friend, Scott," she said through clenched teeth. "I am just _asking_ for one."

"Okay, okay," he said, holding up his hands. "No need to get defensive about it."

She pushed a breath through her nose. The simple idea of her liking Stiles rubbed her the wrong way. For one thing, he was too sarcastic for his own good (and besides, she didn't catch onto it most of the time so she would spend too much time trying to figure out if he was telling the truth or not and she didn't have time for that). And for another, he wasn't the one who shared his chocolate cupcake with her when she dropped hers on the floor in fourth grade. No, _he_ was the one who asked her if she had dropped hers and then painstakingly made a show of licking the icing off of his.

She still hadn't forgiven him for that.

"So, um…what do you think Allison was going to ask?" Scott asked, tapping his fingers against the broom handle again. "I mean, you're a girl—"

"Thanks for noticing," Melanie cut in, flashing him an endearing smile.

"—you can read each other's minds or something like that, right? Do you have an idea of what she was going to ask you?" The hopeful look in his dark eyes made her want to pinch his cheeks.

"If I had to take a guess?" She rubbed her chin while thinking. "Probably if you're into her." She rolled her eyes at the obvious answer she had to give. "Which she should be able to see a mile away with the way you've been looking at her, Smiley," she grunted at the smile that had blossomed over his face. "I mean, she keeps going to lacrosse practice to watch you."

"Well…she could be going to watch _you_," Scott countered. "With that whole girl on a boy's team thing."

"Oh no, trust me, it's you," she replied. "_Everyone_ has come to watch you. I mean, you've become a star player in one night. It's farfetched. You have to see it to believe it and people want to see it. What's your secret, McCall? You've been holding back on us all this time?"

He chuckled and scratched behind his ear. "No, um, it's just…a lot of practice. That's all."

"So how come Stiles still plays like…well, Stiles?"

"Because he's…Stiles?"

Somehow that made sense to her.

**###**

The warm bathwater lulled Melanie into a peaceful state once she was submerged. Her hair piled atop of her head, she sank as low into the water as possible, the water line resting right beneath her nose so it wavered and wobbled with every breath she blew out.

Her entire body felt weightless within in the water. She felt as if she was floating. With her eyes closed she let her mind drift far away, away from the pain that nagged in the back of her head, away from the worries and stress of the day, away from the muffled voices of her parents downstairs. She couldn't decipher if they were arguing or not but if they weren't she was sure an argument was going to start sometime soon.

Darkness seeped in as she closed her eyes and blew air out of her mouth, bubbles rising up to the surface. She sunk lower, her knees bending slightly to accommodate her whole body now under water. She could feel her beating heart slow in her chest. The previous need for oxygen had dissipated and she lay in comfortable silence.

Her eyes fluttered open and she spotted…seaweed? She opened her eyes fully and looked straight up. The end of a stalk of seaweed swayed to and fro and, high above her, the mottled rays of the sun wiggled up at the surface line,

If that hadn't surprised her before, looking down sure did. Gone were her legs and in place was a long, flowing tail. Blueish-purple scales covered the fin which bounced the sunlight off of it. Holding her hands out in front of her face she noticed that a thin web-like membrane stretched out between each finger. Her hands then flew to her neck where she felt two slits. Pressing down on them slightly she could feel water being sucked in. Her chest inflated as if she had taken a big gulp of fresh air and when she blew out bubbles streamed up to the surface.

What in the world was going on? She had been in her bathroom and now…where was she? She turned around so she was floating on her stomach and looked around at the vast waterscape. Finding nothing but the rolling waves high above her head she stretched her new muscles and gave her fin a good kick. It propelled her forward much faster than she expected, pushing her out at least ten feet in one kick.

Excitement running through her veins, she stretched her arms in front of her and slapped her fin through the water. The membrane between her fingers helped propel her forward through the water. A smile blossomed on her face as she passed by colorful reefs and seaweed and plant life. One thicket seemed to house a heard of the prettiest angelfish she had ever seen. She needed a closer look.

Shifting directions, she swam towards the angelfish heard, her hair billowing out behind her as if suspended in midair. Once she got close enough to the reef she floated above it, admiring the fish that swam around. Moving further down the reef, she began to get a closer look at the structure when something in the shadows beneath caught her eye. A red light? She tilted her head in curiosity and got closer. The red light split into two, almond-shaped glowing structures.

Eyes.

Melanie sucked in a breath to scream only to feel water rushing into her lungs. Her hands shot out and grabbed for anything as she struggled for air. Finally her fingertips scrambled against the smooth edges of the bathtub and she held on tight. Lifting herself up, her head broke through the surface of the water and she coughed and spluttered while trying to get air into her lungs. She brushed her wet hair out of her face and looked at her hands. They looked normal. Then she looked down to see her legs bent at the knees across the bottom of the tub. Her heart rammed against her chest and it lurched at the knocking on the door.

"Melanie? Are you okay in there?" Arabella called through the door.

"Y-yeah," Melanie called back. "Just fine. I'm getting out now."

"Okay. Dinner will be ready soon."

With shaky hands, Melanie reached over the edge of the tub and grabbed the towel that she had dropped on the floor nearby. She brushed the water off of her hands and then pulled herself up to sit on the edge of the tub to dry off her arms. Swinging her legs around, she placed her feet on the mat and began to dry them when the towel snagged. Eyebrows crinkling, Melanie moved the towel to see what it was that had caused the snag.

Scales lined the top of her legs.

She rubbed at her eyes with her thumbs and looked again. Smooth skin stared back at her. Sighing heavily, she ran a hand through her wet hair. Maybe she had gotten hit harder than she thought at practice. That was the only solution to this insanity.

**###**

_**a/n**_ - So what do you think is going on with Melanie? And what about her dream? Or was it a dream? Please let me know what you think and thank you so much to those who have reviewed and faved and alerted this story. I'm glad to see that you all are enjoying it! Please leave a review!


	4. No Air

**Chapter 4: No Air**

The week flew by in a blur and the next thing they knew it was Friday. It was finally the beginning of the weekend, the end of the school week, the day of Lydia's big party, and, more importantly, the day of the big lacrosse scrimmage to find out who was going to make first line. The whole school had been abuzz about the day since Scott's big transformation into a lacrosse playing machine. Everyone except Erica, anyway, who was still curled up in bed that morning when Melanie called to let her know that she was on her way to pick her up.

"Don't bother," Erica said into her cell phone receiver. Her head was tilted to hold it against her shoulder as she used her free hands to stroke the fur of her snow white cat. "I'm not going today."

"What, why!? Eri, I need you in the stands cheering me on!"

"I can cheer you on from here," she said. "I'm not feeling well today."

"_Eri._" Erica could hear the prying tone that Melanie was trying to use on her. It used to work but not this time. Erica was standing her ground. She just didn't feel up to going to school that day, what was wrong with that? Her mother understood that she need a Me Day sometimes, why couldn't her best friend? "Please. Please, please, please, please come today!"

"I'll just see you tomorrow or something, okay?" Erica replied. "Hey, text me if you make the team. I'll make jersey cookies."

"Hey, are you okay?" Melanie asked, all traces of suspicion now replaced with concern. "I can drop by during lunch?"

"No, no, it's fine. I just need a break," Erica replied. "Really. You go and have a good day and we can talk later." She removed her phone from her ear and jabbed the end call button before Melanie could protest. She tossed it away right as her mother barged into the room. "Ever ear of knocking?" Erica grumbled.

"It's my house, knocking is optional," Mrs. Reyes replied. She sat on the edge of her bed and pushed Erica's hair off her face to press a kiss to her forehead. "I might be home late tonight; I have a few surgeries lined up." Mrs. Reyes works as an Ophthalmologist; while she primarily dealt with eyeglass and contact lenses fittings she also performed corrective surgery when the moment arises. "Do you want me to bring anything back?"

"No, I'll just order in," Erica replied. "Melanie might come over later if that's okay."

"Sure! I'll leave you two money if you want a pizza," Mrs. Reyes said. "Have a good day, sweetie." She patted Erica's shoulder and started to leave the room only to stop and point at the medicine bottle on her nightstand. "Don't forget to take your medicine."

Erica rolled her eyes. "I never forget, Mom. See?" She made a show of popping the cap, dispensing one medicine pill into her palm, and then popped it into her mouth to swallow. She then tilted her head back and stuck out her tongue as her mother removed a mini flashlight from her pocket to check. "All gone," she stated, not bothering to hide her annoyance over the fact that her mother still needed to check on her. "You can go now."

"Okay, okay, I get the hint." Mrs. Reyes put the flashlight back into her pocket. "I'll call in sometime later."

"Okay, bye." Erica waved her hand to signal for her mom to leave. Once her bedroom door closed she rolled off her bed and went to the window. She watched her mother get into her car, back out of the driveway, and drive down the street. Erica counted to ten before she rushed to the bathroom.

Dropping to her knees by the toilet, she lifted the lid and gathered her hair back into a ponytail. Draping it over one side, she stuck her head over the toilet bowl and shoved two fingers down her throat. Almost instantly her stomach clenched and a gagging sound squeeze out past her fingers. She removed her fingers and stuck her head further in the bowl. The sound of her retching bounced around the porcelain. She gasped for air, gagged again, and then felt her previously eaten food expel past her lips and into the toilet. She gripped the cool toilet rim with slightly sticky fingers and held her head in place until her stomach stopped convulsing.

Lifting her head, she wiped the dangling string of saliva from her mouth with the back of her hand. She slowly got to her feet and made her way to the sink. Grimacing at the small chunks coating her tongue, she grabbed her toothbrush and toothpaste and brushed away as much as she could. After she spat the excess toothpaste into the toilet she wiped her mouth with a nearby hand towel and then dug around in the top drawer. She successfully found the tape measure she had been looking for.

Erica then stepped on the scale in the corner of the bathroom as she lifted her shirt halfway. Keeping the tip of the measuring tape against her bellybutton she wrapped the rest of it around her back and the other side of her stomach, pulling it as tight as possible with breathing room. She glanced down at the numbers on the scale—which read 136—and then at the tape measure around her stomach. No change.

Growling in frustration, she tossed the measuring tape away. It smacked against the mirror and bounced around until it landed in the sink. Her eyes caught her reflection in the mirror and she felt her stomach turn from the sight alone. Her mother used to say that high school was supposed to be a transforming experience. And yet here she was, a caterpillar stuck in a world of butterflies.

**###**

Melanie was bored. She was _dreadfully_ bored. Without Erica around she felt as if she were lost in the middle of the woods with no idea of which way to go. So she tried every direction she could think of.

She tried talking to Allison before classes started but found herself zoning out not only a sentence in since the only thing she spoke about was how Scott had asked her to Lydia's party and how they bonded over an injured puppy. Melanie didn't need to hear how amazing Scott was, she already had a firsthand experience with that. On the flip side, asking Scott about the german shepherd puppy she had dropped off garnered the same reaction, only he couldn't stop talking about their date and how _she_ wanted to go on a date with _him_. Barf. She wasn't anywhere near a good enough mood to deal with Lydia and Jackson putting her down for the sake of someone to talk to. There was Isaac but after sitting on him and making a fool of herself she didn't trust herself or her lack of awareness for that to not happen again. So that left only one person.

"Hey Stiles," Melanie greeted him as she dropped down in the seat next to him in the library. He had a pile of books surrounding him and his nose was shoved deep within the pages of one. She frowned when she noticed that he didn't tear his eyes away from the book. "Stiles," she repeated, poking him in the arm. He left go of the book and waved her away, still not taking his eyes off the page. Quirking and eyebrow, she leaned over until her chin rested on his shoulder so she could see what it was that had his attention. _Werewolves?_ Her eyebrows furrowed and her eyes shifted back and forth between his face and the book. Huffing, she leaned even closer until her mouth hovered by his ear and then she howled.

"Gah! Geeze, Mel!" Stiles yelled, jerking away from her. She laughed as he wiggled his finger in his ear. Other occupants of the library aimed hissing shushes their way. Melanie got comfortable in her seat as Stiles glared. "Next time try the bat signal. It'll get my attention a lot faster," he muttered sarcastically.

"I think I'll take you up on that offer," she said as she began to search it on her phone, the tone of his comment flying over her head. "D'you know anywhere that sells them? Preferably on the cheap side?" Looking up from the screen, she noticed him staring pointedly at her. Her shoulders raised in a silent question and he rolled his eyes.

"Sarcasm, Mels, sarcasm," he sighed.

"Ah." She exited the web app that had popped up and then put her phone away. "So are you done with my books yet or do you still need them?"

"No I – ah – I still need them. Doing some research for a, uh, a class! For a project! A project for a class, yeah. Y'know, a…creative sort of thing," he said, scratching behind his ear.

"Like creative…_writing_?"

He snapped his fingers and pointed at her. "Yeah, like that!"

"And it's on werewolves?"

"Yeah! It's, y'know, good source material. Everyone likes movies about werewolves. They're the scariest monsters, right? Lots of information on them and stuff. There's…history too, y'know." He closed the book and propped his elbow up on it. "Lacrosse! Let's talk about lacrosse. Are you excited for today?"

"Is it bad if I say I'd be excited if Scott somehow broke his leg before the scrimmage?" she asked wile slumping in her seat. He stared at her. "It's not that I don't want him to make first line, it's just…he's so _good_. He's bound to get it for sure. That's one spot gone. What about the rest of us?"

"We'll just have to try harder," Stiles replied. "Besides, I think we have an in. Coach isn't very fond of Greenberg so I don't think he'd want to deal with him that much."

Melanie held up a finger, indicating that he had made a good point. "True." She grabbed her phone to check if Erica had responded to her text yet but she found her inbox empty. She must be napping. She had been replacing her phone in her pocket when a movement by the door made her take pause and then inhale a sharp breath.

"What? What? Is it Lydia? Is she wearing that cute little mini skirt?" Stiles asked, sitting straight up to see what it was that made her gasp.

"No! Even worse!" Melanie grabbed the book he had been reading and opened it wide, propping it up on the table so she could hide behind it.

"Lydia in a—"

"This isn't about Lydia!" She grabbed onto Stiles's shoulder and pulled him down so he was hidden behind the book as well.

"Then what's the problem?"

"_That_!" Melanie pointed over the top of the book to where Isaac was putting some books on the return cart.

"Isaac?" Stiles made a face. "I don't get it."

"I might have…accidentally…sat on him," Melanie mumbled, her cheeks flushing as she relived the memory in his mind.

"Ah, yeah, well, that makes sense. Y'know since his lap looks…very inviting and all. You know, I would even want to take a turn. If it were Christmas."

"Shut up, Piles. God! Can you not be sarcastic for one second?"

He rested his cheek upon his palm. "I could but I think it would kill me," he replied. Somehow she knew he was being honest. "Hey, you caught on that time."

"Don't be proud of me, I took a guess," she replied. "That inviting lap comment was a bit of an indicator."

"Hey! He does have a nice looking lap area." His comment hung in the air as she sat up taller, her eyes narrowing. He smirked and licked his lower lip. "Apparently you think so too."

"What? No! Look!" she replied, pointing again. As she pointed Isaac had lifted his head from a book he was reading in an aisle. He closed it with a pinch of his hands and then turned to return it to a shelf. This angle gave them a good view of the cut on his left cheek. "Where'd he get that?"

"Uh, he plays lacrosse," Stiles pointed out. "It's not exactly a knitting circle."

"A blow to the helmet can't do that," Melanie replied. "It's cushioned for a reason." She shrieked and ducked her head again when Isaac looked around the library. "Okay, I gotta go," she said, hastily slamming the book shut and began to gather her things.

"Wait! I still need that book!" Stiles said, grabbing onto the other end of the book.

She pulled on it. "I need cover!"

He pulled back. "I need information!"

"Stiles, let go!"

"_You_ let go!"

Their little battle of tug of war ended when Scott burst into the library yelling that he needed to talk to Stiles, only to be shushed by others. His appearance startled her to the point that she let go of the book, causing Stiles to stumble and his chair to almost fall over but he grabbed onto the table and held on for dear life.

"Sorry, it's an emergency," Scott said to Melanie. "It's a, uh, a guy thing." Adding in for good measure and to make sure she offended he added, "Good luck at practice today!"

"Thanks. I'd say the same to you but I don't think you'd need it. You're a shoo-in. But good luck to you, Stiles!" She gathered her things, fluttered her fingers to wave goodbye, and snuck out of the library once Isaac's back was turned. Her lips fluttered with the sigh she breathed once out in the hall. Now who was she going to talk to? Her shoulders slumped. She wished she had convinced Erica to come to school that day, her stomach was twisted in a tight knot that only she would be able to work out with her encouragement.

She turned the nearest corner and made a beeline for the door. She had a call to place.

**###**

"What. The. Hell. Am. I. _Doing_?" Melanie muttered under her breath. Her hands were wringing against the cool metal shaft while her knees knocked together. She ran her tongue across her cold lips as she watched the other guys on the team jogging around the field, tossing the ball back and forth, ramming into each other to test defensive tactics, dodged and weaved, anything to get ready for the scrimmage that was to decide their fate. Practice all week was leading up to this moment and now they would have an audience? May as well shove her out in the middle of the field while they play her childhood videos on a constant loop.

She blew out a breath and shook out a hand, trying to remember what it was that Erica had said to her when she called. That she was rough, she was tough, and that she could do it. Yeah, she _could_ if she wasn't so terrified of having a permanent cleat mark on her face.

_It's okay, it's okay, you can do this. Just…pretend it's another practice. I mean, it is one, but try not to think of the stakes at hand. And try not to worry about Jackson willing to crush you to get to the goal. Or Coach Finstock watching you like a hawk. Or all the girls putting weight on your shoulders. Or—_

Her train of thought broke when she felt a nudge on her arm. Blinking, she turned her attention to Scott who smiled up at her as he dug through his bag. "Are you ready?"

"As ready as I'll ever be," Melanie replied. "How're you doing under the pressure of your adoring fans?" She motioned to the students gathered around the bleachers behind them.

He shook his head. "It's…crazy," he muttered. "I just hope I don't embarrass myself."

"You'll be fine. Stiles and I have your back." She tugged at the red jersey she was wearing for emphasis of her point. The team was split down the middle for the scrimmage that day, half of them were wearing red jerseys and half of them were wearing black. They would be swapped in and out of position to see where they fit and if they played well they would be selected for a position on first line. In a perfect world she would play an attack position, preferably on the right side, but a midfield position would work for her as well.

As if he had heard his name being mentioned, Stiles came running over to Scott, screeching his name in a high pitched voice along the way.

"Stiles, I'm playing the first elimination. Can it wait?" Scott asked amidst Stiles's frantic movements.

"Just hold on, okay," Stiles replied, bending over at the waist to gasp for air. "I overheard my dad on the phone. The fiber analysis came back from the lab in L.A. They found animal hairs from the body in the woods!"

"Wait, you two went in search for that dead body?" Melanie demanded, cutting in. Stiles glanced at her. A moment later a thought occurred to her and she turned to Scott. "Was _that _why you never came over to help me out?"

"Look, guys, I gotta go," Scott said, grabbing his gear. Stiles tried to stop him but his pleas for Scott to listen fell on deaf ears. Melanie strained to hear what it was that he was talking about but Coach Finstock's whistles stopped that from happening. Grabbing her helmet, she jogged out onto the field with the rest of the boys, standing near the edge of the semi-circle they made around the coach.

He went on to fire up the team with a somewhat motivational speech about the realities of the practice which ended on the note of it all being "cream cheese" or whatever. Either way, the team was riled up and pumped and ready to go. Anyone within the vicinity of the field could feel it. It made blood rush in Melanie's ears and her heart thump in her chest in anticipation.

She, Stiles, and Isaac were benched at first with a few of the other players as the scrimmage started. Jackson was on the black jersey team and facing off against Scott and the red jersey team. The tension in the air was thick and nothing had even happened yet. Melanie pressed her palms together and held them against her mouth, one foot bounced rapidly on the ground as Jackson and some other player crouched near the ball. The whistle blew.

The scrimmage was on.

The ball was flung back and forth as the players ran around the field trying to score and block scoring. Twenty minutes went by and Jackson had managed to score four goals in that time. People were swapped in and out of positions but Jackson stayed on the field for the most part, Scott too. At one point he had the ball passed to him but he was knocked down by Jackson, causing the spectators on the stand to groan.

"Come on, come on, get up," Stiles muttered as he watched intently. Melanie was biting her thumbnail at this point, her foot still bouncing on the ground. Her anxiety rose and fell along the crowd as they watched but she couldn't place who it was for, herself or Scott. Maybe his new power was a fluke? Maybe he was still the asthmatic boy who could get crushed by a good blow and wouldn't get back up?

At the brief blow of a whistle Jackson and Scott now lined up at the center circle, crouching low, and their sticks on the ground. Everyone in the audience seemed to be holding their breaths, Melanie included. She could almost feel the intensity in the glare that Jackson was throwing Scott's way.

"Oh god, I can't watch!" she exclaimed while grabbing onto the hands on either side of her, one was Stiles's and the other Isaac's. She squeezed her eyes shut and waited for the whistle to blow, signaling the play. At the sound she squeezed their hands tight and waited for a reaction, one way or another, that would indicate their fate.

A few murmurs went through the crowd followed by a few gasps and exclamations of awe but even though that torture she didn't open her eyes. It wasn't until a loud cheer went through the stands grabbed her attention enough that she cracked one eye open to see Scott and other members of the red team jumping up and down. Next to her Stiles appeared stunned.

"Scott made the shot," Isaac told her, as if reading the unanswered question on her mind.

"Oh!" she said and then added in a delayed "yay!" amidst Coach yelling for Scott to get off the field. Her smile quickly faded as did the one on Scott's face as he jogged over to the coach to see what it was that he wanted. She leaned forward on the bench, straining to hear what it was that he was chastising Scott for. It wasn't until people around her stood up to cheer and she heard someone call out "first line" that it hit her that Scott had made it. Scott made first line! Letting go of Stiles's and Isaac's limp hands she jumped up and screamed her support but she couldn't help but notice that Stiles didn't seem as excited about the news.

A ref blew a whistle signaling halftime and the players gathered around on the benches, squirting water into their mouths from their water bottles and fixing their hair which was matted with sweat just in case someone was looking at them. Melanie half listened to whatever speech Coach was going through as she dug into the bag of orange slices that was going around. She couldn't warm a bench on an empty stomach after all!

Her face scrunched up as she tried to gnaw a piece of orange off of its rind, Stiles's hissing whispers to Scott floating through one ear and out the other. But that all turned to quiet background noise as she zoned out, focusing on her snack. A shrill whistle in her ear made her mind come slamming back to the present and she blinked to see Coach's face close to hers.

"_Aaaah!_" she screamed, leaping onto the nearest person to her which, with her luck, was Isaac. Again. "Sorry! Sorry!" she squeaked, scrambling off his lap to reclaim her seat on the bench amidst the laughter of all those around her.

"Crowe! Get your ass out of la la land! I don't want daydreamers on this team!" Coach yelled in her face. "Now, if you would like to rejoin us on Planet Earth, you're going in next half. Unless you want to sleep through that!"

"No coach," Melanie replied, lifting her hand to salute him. He held her gaze for a moment, giving her a pointed look, and then turned away. She sighed, her shoulder slumping as she rubbed a gloved hand over her face. Then her body stiffened as his words registered in her mind. "Wait, what!? I'm going in? I'm playing?" She grabbed onto Stiles's shoulder pads and shook him. "I'm playing!" A second later her smile fell off her face and she held her head in her hands. "Oh my god, I'm gonna die."

"No, no one's dying out there today," he replied, patting her on the back. "Jackson will be off the field. So the only one you'll have to worry about is…him." He lifted his chin right as Isaac got off the bench and walked by them; his stick and helmet in hand. "Maybe he'll go easy on you. I mean, after all, you are, ahem, _seat mates_." He pressed his lips together to keep from laughing aloud but a snorting sound managed to make it through.

"_Shut up, Piles_," she growled through clenched teeth. Reaching behind the bench she dug around in her bag for her mp3 player. Choosing a song from her _Pump Up Playlist _she placed her headphones over her ears and closed her eyes to allow the song to put her into the zone she needed to focus. The music did its job, pumping up her spirits and getting her psyched that by the time the whistle was blown again for the second half of the scrimmage she was up and ready to go. After making a deal with Stiles to help each other out, she made sure her gear was on properly and then took the field.

Her heart thumped hard in her chest and seemed to echo in her ears as she took her place on the left front side of the field. The two center attackers crouched at the center line, waiting for the whistle. She looked over their heads to where Stiles was standing. He looked as if he were about to puke, his lips were pressed together so hard. She wondered if she looked the same. He lifted his hand, pointed two of his fingers at his eyes and then pointed at her. She returned the gesture and added a thumbs up at the end.

Her muscles tensed. She tightened her grip on the shaft of her crosse. The whistle blew. Time seemed to slow down. Everyone moved slowly. She could see the two boys wrestling over the ball for a moment before someone on their team grabbed it. She ran forward, getting herself into an empty spot. She watched as the ball was cradled and ran around one opponent before it was passed off to Stiles. He had only taken a few steps forward when he was knocked over, earning a groan from the crowd. Thankfully he popped right back up and slapped the side of his helmet as if he was punishing himself.

The center attacker got the ball again, tried to run around the player that stayed glued to his side, and then paused, looking around. Melanie held her breath. She could see the shift of his weight before he threw the ball at her. Reaching out, she extended her stick and caught the ball. Turning, she managed to dodge the tank that charged towards her and ran towards the goal. She skidded to a stop to keep from colliding with another player and tossed the ball over to Stiles. He caught it and tried to move past the defenders that blocked him.

Melanie weaved between a few defenders that left a spot open and called out, "Stiles! Over here!" He turned his head and threw the ball. She ducked low to catch it before she hit the ground and turned to make the shot. Gripping the bottom shaft of the lacrosse stick, she pushed the top forward with her dominant hand, aiming for an empty space of the goal.

Her arcing movement was cut short when she felt a hard hid on her side. Her feet left the ground at the point of impact and she found herself flying through the air. It felt like an eternity before she hit the ground hard on her back. All breath that was in her flew out past her teeth in one quick _woosh_.

She stared up at the bright blue sky, struggling to breathe but her lungs didn't work with her. Panic began to creep in as she tried to pull in air. What if she passed out? What if she never breathed again? What if she just died right then and there? Was it possible to predict her own death?

"Mel! Mel!"

The voices of those calling her name were muffled. The next thing she knew she was being tugged up into a sitting position and her helmet was being pulled off her head.

"Hey! Hey, are you okay?" Stiles asked, holding her up by the arm. She shook her head and gestured at her neck, all the while still trying to breathe. "You broke your neck!?" he cried out.

"No, I think she just got the wind knocked out of her," Scott replied, somewhere above her.

Melanie tapped her nose, miming that he was right.

"So just take a breath." She shot him a withering look. As if she hadn't thought of that or wasn't trying for that matter. She didn't fancy the idea of dying on the lacrosse field due to the lack of oxygen. "Oh, right, okay. Bad suggestion."

"Let's get her up," Scott said.

The two hauled her up to her feet where she wobbled for a few seconds but managed to get her balance back. Applause went through the crowds as she brought a hand up to her head. She noticed everyone staring at her and then saw the figure of Coach pushing his way through the once kneeling players.

"Crowe! This isn't some play! There's no need for the theatrics!" he yelled.

"Coach, she got hit hard!" Scott protested. "The wind got knocked out of her."

"Boo hoo, she didn't break anything." Crouching down, hands resting on his knees, he looked in Melanie's eyes. "Do you want to get off the field, Crowe?"

Melanie sucked in a large, audible breath. She took in another one, let that go, and then shook her head. She wasn't going to quit, not after all this time. "No," she replied firmly. "No, I don't want to get off the field, Coach. I want to play."

"Are you sure?" Scott asked. "You just took a hard hit—"

"And I'm fine. So I can take on another one. And another one. As many as it takes until I make this team." Wrenching her helmet out of Stiles's free hand she shoved it down on her head. "I'm playing, Coach," she told him. He ran a hand through his wild hair and walked back over to the sidelines. Turning to Scott she asked, "Now, are you going to stand in my way or are you going to let me play? Choose wisely, McCall." He held up his hands, as if to block her words, and then moved aside for her. "_Thank you_," she said sternly and grabbed at her fallen stick.

A few seconds ago, truthfully, she had considered just giving up. She was crazy to think that she could play on a boy's team but the sound of laughter was what made her change her mind right back. Someone _laughing_ at her injury. But not just somebody, it was the distinct sound of _Jackson Whittemore_ laughing at her. She would not just let that go.

She rolled her neck and kicked out her legs, getting her muscles ready for another hard few minutes of play. Could be a few seconds for all she knew but she was going to make them count. Once she lifted her eyes from the ground they rested on Isaac who looked back at her. She lifted her chin and held his gaze as if daring him to speak. But instead his body shook with a short breath-like laugh that he pushed through his nose as his mouth pulled back at the corner. Her lips twitched until her own mouth mimicked his smile.

Breaking their stare, she let her eyes drop down to the ball that had been rolled over to her. Scooping it up, her focus shifted back to dodging the players that came running at her.

She had a position to lockdown.

* * *

><p><em>an_ - Did she make the team? Did she fail? Gonna have to wait until next chapter to find out! Please leave a review.


	5. Cold Comfort

**Chapter 5: Cold Comfort**

"Oh my god, you should have seen Jackson's face when I got that goal past him!" Melanie gushed as she held a shirt in front of her. Scrunching up her face, she tossed it aside and picked up another from the large pile on the chair near the mirror. "It was the funniest thing I've ever seen! Like he had gotten slapped in the face."

"He may as well have been," Erica commented from the bed. She held her cat on her lap and was stroking her hair, a small smile on her face. "I can't believe you made the team!"

"Only second line," Melanie sighed, tossing another shirt aside. "I'll be riding the bench all season."

"Second line's better than nothing, right?"

"Right." She winked at Erica's reflection in the mirror. She couldn't stop smiling about the news despite how much she tried to downplay it by bringing up the fact that she was placed on second line. She was on the lacrosse team! She had made the lacrosse team! She was an official Cyclone! Now to celebrate the news, she was getting ready for Lydia's after party which the entire team had been invited to attend.

"How'd your mom and dad take it?" Erica asked.

"They were happy," Melanie replied. "Dad was ecstatic of course, wanted to take me out for dinner but I convinced him and Mom to go by themselves. They could use time alone and I wanted to sleep over with my best friend in the entire world who _should_ be coming to this party with me." Lifting her eyebrows and smiling wide, she wiggled the shirt that she was holding as if it was going to entice Erica to go.

Erica blew out a breath and shook her head. "I already told you, I'm not going. Lydia wouldn't even want me there."

"Lydia wouldn't even _notice_ you're there," Melanie pointed out.

"Yeah, well, that's the problem. No one would notice. No one ever notices."

Huffing, Melanie sat down on the edge of Erica's bed and took her hand. "_I_ would notice," she said gently. "And I _do_ notice. I want you there to experience things with me. I missed you all day."

Erica snorted. "I could tell. You blew up my phone."

"Whose fault is that? Your's. Because you weren't there." She leaned forward and flicked Erica's nose. Erica playfully bit her finger. "Eri, please. It's just one night of fun. Look, Stiles is picking me up and we're going together. He has room in his jeep, you can come too."

Erica tried to hide it but Melanie saw her perk up at the mention of Stiles's name. The light that had been gone from her eyes reappeared and looked as if she was mulling it over. But then, it faded again, she shook her head, and leaned back against her pillows. "No, I'll just stay here." She tugged at a loose thread on the hem of her oversized t-shirt. "Tell me everything that happens."

"I don't want you sitting alone all by yourself," Melanie stated.

Erica shrugged. "Nothing new, I'm used to it."

"Erica."

"Mel, you are on the boys' lacrosse team. You're a good player and you're only going to get better. You'll be pushed into the spotlight and me? I'll just be your dorky, overweight, acne-ridden friend who watches from the sidelines." Melanie opened her mouth to protest but Erica held up her hand to stop her. "Maybe that's how things are supposed to be. You know I'll always be your number one fan. You're destined or greatness and I'm destined to run your fan club."

"Erica—"

"Let me help you find something," she said, bouncing off the bed. Her cat, not liking being suddenly tossed aside, dropped to the floor and stalked out of the room. She bounded over to her closet and started pushing clothes aside on the hanger. Melanie abandoned the pile of clothes on the chair and joined her at the closet, hovering as Erica yanked something off of the hanger. "This is cute. It'll look good on you," she said as she held out a dark floral print romper to Melanie.

"Err…" Melanie said, holding the romper up in front of her. "Eri, you're taller than me. Won't this be a bit…short?" She was sure her ass was going to be hanging out the back of it.

"I can fix that." Pushing aside more hangers, she pulled down a gray hooded cardigan and then handed that over to Melanie. "Wait! Add in…this belt and…oh! These boots." She gave Melanie the accessories and then paused while rubbing her chin. Snapping her fingers, she then went to her jewelry box and dug around until she pulled out a yin-yang pendant on the end of a black cord necklace. "Cute but casual. It screams you _and_ it's much better than your constant t-shirt and jeans."

Melanie stuck her tongue out at Erica before heading to her private bathroom to change. She liked her band shirts and jeans, thank you very much. As she looked over the clothes that Erica had lent her she couldn't help but notice how well everything seemed to go together. If it was that simple for her why didn't she dress in it all the time instead of going for something unflattering to her body? She didn't have time to entertain the thought further as she heard the distinct sound of Stiles's honking jeep.

**# # #**

By the time they made it to the party it was already in full swing. Guests were dancing on the space by the pool, arms up in the air, red solo cups clutched in their hands in time with the pop music that poured out of the speakers. Strings of light connected between the main house and the pool house. Inside guests were eating snacks and mingling about, the main topic of conversation being the scrimmage that day. A few guests were making out in corners on and on chairs in plain view but no one bothered them as they went about their business.

As soon as Stiles and Melanie arrived he set about looking for Lydia, hoping to catch a glimpse of her and maybe even thank her for inviting him. But that plan of action failed as soon as he saw her attached to Jackson's side so he turned his attention to mingling with other lacrosse players and talking about their upcoming season.

Melanie didn't mind continuing the conversation; she was excited to be a part of it. Tingles still shot over her body whenever she thought of being an official Cyclone athlete. She didn't want the feeling to go away anytime soon.

Sometime later a ripple went through the crowd to let some people pass and go out to the pool/dance area. Part of the group were Scott and Allison, both of whom looked as if they had just been struck by Cupid's arrow, shooting nervous smiles back and forth at one another. Heck, it was obvious they only had eyes for each other at that point. They were way beyond smitten.

"Dang, she looks good," a random boy commented, his eyes glued to Allison as she led Scott to the dance floor. "McCall's one lucky bastard. What does she see in him anyway?"

Melanie pursed her lips and tucked her hair behind her ear as she glanced at them. What _didn't_ she see would be a better question. Anyone who knew Scott could easily say he was the sweetest, nicest boy on the planet. And obviously Allison figured that one out. Making a face, Melanie turned away from the sight before the festering angry twist in her stomach got worse.

She sipped on her can of soda throughout the night as people started to fall over due to being tipsy or flat-out drunk. A game started amongst the small talking group about who would be the next to fall over or who would puke first. Their bet was on Greenburg but when Scott rushed by them their guess changed to him.

"Whoa, Scott, you good?" Stiles called out, trying to reach his friend. But Scott kept going, his face scrunched up in pain. "Ah, Mels, can you go check on Allison while I deal with Scott?"

"I guess, but—"

"Thanks!"

Melanie sighed when Stiles pushed his way through the crowd. She put her soda can down and started pushing her own way through when Allison came through on the other side, chasing after Scott. Stopping on a dime, Melanie shifted her weight and followed after Allison, calling out her name but the girl seemed to be on a mission to get out. She was already down on the sidewalk in front of the house when Scott drove away once Melanie burst through the front door.

She had begun to turn around to go back inside when some guy in a leather jacket approached her. Eyebrows furrowing, she watched as he spoke to her. Something about him felt off. Allison must have thought so too with the way she was tucking her hair behind her ear and shifting her weight. Digging into her pocket, Melanie pulled out her cell phone and used her finger and thumb to zoom in the camera to take a picture of him. The guy in the leather jacket tilted his head and Allison followed him.

Melanie turned back into the house, squeezing through any available space she could find. She had to find Stiles. She checked random rooms before going out the back and found him sprinting towards the back gate.

"Stiles! Stiles, wait!" she called out.

He planted his feet on the ground a couple of times to slow his movements as he looked over his shoulders. "Mel, what? I have to go after Scott!" he yelled back.

"It's Allison," she replied, waving her phone around and beckoning him to get closer. "If you find Scott tell him that this guy took her home. So he doesn't worry." She showed him the photo that he took.

"Right. Okay, got it. I gotta go!" he said and started to run again.

Melanie put her phone away when a thought occurred to her. "But, wait! Stiles! You're my ride!"

"I know!" he called back. "I'm sorry, this is an emergency! Find someone else!"

Melanie tossed one arm into the air and let it fall against her side. She shook her head. Unbelievable! Rolling her eyes, she walked around the side of the pool and tried to get through the dancing crowd to look for someone to drive her home. Instead she ended up coming face to face with Jackson who grabbed her shoulder and turned her back around.

"Uhm, is there a problem?" she asked, trying to get out of his grasp but he held on tight.

"Just one," he replied, shaking her shoulder.

"And I'm guessing…it's me?" she said.

"Bingo." A muscle in his jaw twitched. She could tell by the shape of it that he was clenching his teeth. "Look, I'm sure everyone thought it was cute that you wanted to try out for the lacrosse team. Power to the girls and shit like that."

"Well, really, I have a big interest in the sport and—"

"Shut up," Jackson hissed, interrupting her. She nodded and pressed her lips together. "For some unfathomable reason—maybe it was luck—"

"—or skill—" she interjected but he kept going as if he hadn't been interrupted.

"—or pity, whatever it was you're on the team now. You must be so proud of yourself. But let's just get this one thing straight, if for whatever reason you actually set foot on that field you better bring it. Or I swear to god if you ruin our chances of being state champs you will regret it." The longer he spoke the more pressure he put onto her shoulder until she swore she heard her bones beneath her skin creak. "Clear?"

"Crystal," she replied, her voice strained. She let out a noise of relief once he let go of her shoulder and slipped into the crowd. She rubbed her aching shoulder and made a face at Jackson's retreating back. That would most likely leave a bruise. Or maybe that was his plan; injure her before she could do anything. But then she snorted. He wasn't smart enough for that.

"Watch it."

A couple rushed by on her left side, holding hands and giggling, most likely trying to find a place to get some privacy. In her haste to get out of their way she tripped over her feet. Her breath caught in her throat as her world turned and she headed straight for the pool. With nothing nearby to grab onto, she closed her eyes and accepted her fate. Her body smacked against the water and her clothes, now waterlogged, dragged her down. Briefly touching down on the bottom of the pool she pushed off and her head broke the surface. Spluttering, she ran her hand over her face to brush the chlorine water out of her eyes. Then the laughter around her filtered in.

Looking around, her stomach dropped at the sight of the pointing fingers and the sound of camera phone shutters going off. Her cheeks burned and her eyes quickly followed. But it wasn't from the chlorine; she wished it were that simple. Her lower lip began to tremble as she waded her way to the edge of pool. She could blame it on the cold air that made gooseflesh arise on her skin but then, deep down, it was hard to fight against the lump that was rising in her throat.

Her mind screamed at her to ask for a towel but her heart and the embarrassment that coursed through her body made her start running as soon as she was out of the pool. It was stupid of her to come. She should have known it wouldn't be that easy to just fit right in with _that_ group. It was stupid of her to trade in a night with her best friend to experience something new only to be ditched and manhandled and laughed at. And now she was freezing trying to run back to her friend's house with a fried phone in her pocket. Things couldn't get any worse!

Melanie jumped at the sound of squeaking metal and rubber sliding against gravel. She whipped around to see what it was that made the noise and her heart sank even further when she recognized the bike rider was Isaac. _Of course!_ As he placed his feet on the ground to steady himself and the bike she used a damp sleeve to brush any tears off of her reddened eyes.

"Melanie? Is that you?" he asked.

"A w-water-logged v-v-version, yeah," she replied, sniffing.

"What happened? Are you alright?"

"P-party mishap. 'M t-trying t-to get to a f-f-friend's h-house."

He frowned. "On foot?"

"M-my ride k-kinda left without m-me. There was an e-emergency." At this point her entire body trembled due to still being wet in the cold January night. Her chattering teeth were audible in the still night. "W-would have called for a ride b-but my ph-phone's fried." Not to mention she didn't want to show her face at that party any longer. "Wh-what are you d-d-doing here?"

"I just, ah, needed some fresh air," he replied. He peered at her a moment longer before reaching back and tugging on the hood of his sweatshirt. Once he pulled his arms free from the fabric he held it out to her. "Here. It's…it's really cold tonight."

She hesitated. "What about you?" she asked, nodding to his white t-shirt.

"You need it more than I do," he said, nodding his head at her. Her body shook with a sudden jolt of realization. There she was standing in not only wet clothes but super _short_ wet clothes. She'd be crazy not to take his offer now. With reddened cheeks, she muttered a shaky 'thanks' and tugged the still warm sweatshirt down over her head, covering up the clothes that now clung to her like a second skin due to the water contained within it. The sweatshirt fell down to her knees, it was so large, and she couldn't help but laugh at how ridiculous she probably looked.

"Thanks Isaac," she said, brushing her wet stringy hair behind her ear. Now her breaths started to appear in front of her face. "I'll gi-give it back at s-s-school. I'll w-w-wash it. Well…ssssssee ya." She waved, the flapping end of the sweatshirt that hung over her hand.

"Wait." Isaac wheeled the bike forward with his feet. "I, uh, I can ride you." Catching his mistake—although Melanie didn't notice it—he shook his head and corrected himself, "I mean, I can give you a ride. To, uh, to my place. You can dry off and we can call someone to get you. You shouldn't be walking in the cold."

She shook her head. "I w-wouldn't want t-t-to impose."

"You wouldn't be. Really."

Nodding, she approached his bike. Deciding to use his body as a shield from the air, she settled herself down on the center of the handlebars and held on tight, lifting her feet to rest on the spokes that poked out of the sides of the front wheel. Leaning back, she settled against his chest, sighing at the feeling of the warmth radiating off his body.

He cleared his throat and, after making sure she was balanced and holding on tightly, pushed off the ground and started pedaling. He went fast enough so they made good time but slow enough so that she wouldn't bounce off in case he rolled over a rock or accidentally ran over a curb. Thankfully he didn't live too far away from Lydia's neighborhood. He rolled up into his driveway fifteen minutes later, slightly out of breath.

"Are you s-sure I'm not imposing?" Melanie asked, jumping down from the bike.

"You're not," Isaac replied, leaning over to put down the kickstand. "My dad's at work and he won't be home for a while." He dug into his pocket and retrieved his keys all the while Melanie bit her thumbnail. She was about to go into a house of the son of a graveyard worker who wasn't home at the moment. For all she knew he was a serial killer and here she was walking right into his potential trap. The sound of the door unlocking made her mind focus on the present and allow her legs to inch her way inside.

"So, um, you can take a shower. Get out of those wet clothes," he continued as he dropped his keys in a nearby bowl. "I can get you some spare and then you can call whoever it is you need."

"Yeahh," Melanie said slowly, her arms still wrapped around herself. "I need a bra."

Isaac's facial muscles twitched which was quickly followed by a strange choking noise that sounded in his throat. She gave him a look and he rubbed his fingers across his lips. The combination of his wide blue eyes and slightly panicked expression on his face made. "…Okay," he finally replied. "I'll…think of something."

Nodding, she walked to the bedroom that he had pointed out for her so she could use the private bathroom. Taking a look around, she guessed that it was his room due to the band posters on the wall and textbooks and clothes littering the floor. Lacrosse gear lay in a corner of the room reeking of that familiar grass meets sweat smell. She frowned. He was on the lacrosse team too, why didn't he go to the party?

A strong shiver taking over her body made her thoughts stop and switch over to getting warm as soon as possible. She closed the bathroom door and flicked on the light, briefly glancing around. She resisted the common urge to look through his medicine cabinet and sat on the edge of the bathtub. She twisted the knob to warm water and lifted the plunger that made the water spurt out of the shower head. It didn't take long for steam to cover up the mirror.

She shed herself of the large sweatshirt and wet clothes that peeled off her skin. Gooseflesh popped up as her damp skin hit the air and then intensified once she stepped underneath the shower head and felt the warm water hit her. She yanked the shower curtain shut and stood stock still beneath the warm water, letting it trickle down over her head, her shoulders, across her back and belly, and then drip down her legs.

This was heaven.

She didn't know how long she had been in the bathroom but the sound of knocking on the door jumpstarted her to get out. She wrenched the curtain back, only to groan in pain at the sudden movement in her shoulder. Grasping it, she stepped out of the tub and onto the rug. Grabbing a nearby towel, she wrapped it around herself and opened the door a crack to peer out.

"I got you some dry clothes," Isaac said, holding his arm through the crack in the door so she could get the clothes out of his hand. "They'll, uh, be kinda big but they should work."

She accepted the clothes and smiled. "Thanks. I'll be out in a minute."

"Take your time."

She leaned back and closed the door. She briefly looked at the clothes —lounge pants and a long sleeved shirt—and then dropped her towel to change into them. The pants were loose, as she expected. She rolled the band over a few times to keep the legs from dragging on the floor. She had to roll up the sleeves of the shirt as well just so they didn't hang down over her hands. Gathering up the wet clothes she had borrowed from Erica, she shuffled out of the bathroom and back into the bedroom. Placing the clothes on the floor, she walked over to the stack of CDs on the short bookshelf that had grabbed her attention.

She dragged her finger across the spines of some of the CD cases as she looked them over, moving past Coldplay, Belle and Sebastian, and Feist before resting on The Offspring. Eyes lighting up, she pulled the case out of the stack and flipped it to the back. Looking around, she spotted his CD player and powered it on. She popped out the CD that had been in it before and replaced it with The Offspring CD in her hands. The disc slid into the slot and a few seconds later the bass intro of _Can't Repeat_ flowed out of the speakers. Jabbing the next track button a few times she finally reached the song she wanted and cranked up the volume, jumping around when the guitars started.

"_If you could only read my mind, you would know that things between us…aint right…"_

There was nothing more therapeutic to her than music. She could always get lost in it, letting the notes and the rhythm and the lyrics wrap around her like a cocoon, shielding her from the stresses and the worries of the world. She lifted her arms in the air and continued to dance, jumping around and spinning in circles. She sang along to the song, dancing along to the drum beats and the guitar hits until she felt a bit lightheaded and dizzy but she kept going anyway. What was the fun in dancing if you didn't go all out?

"_I want you in a vinyl suit, I want you bad. Complicated. X-rated. I want you bad, bad, bad, bad, bad. Bad._"

The song winded down, beginning to lead into the bridge. It was only then that she got the particular feeling of being watched. Whirling around, she flinched when she noticed Isaac leaning against the door frame, tapping a phone in his palm, an amused expression on his face. She sighed, her shoulders sagging, and jabbed the pause button ith her thumb. "Alright, you caught me. You know my secret, Lahey. I, Melanie Crowe, am a closet insta-dance-party-dancer."

Standing up straight, he ran a hand through his wavy hair and held out the phone with his free hand. "I can see why you're still in the closet about it," he commented. "Some of those moves? Yeah, they don't deserve to see the light of day."

"Hey! Mr. Broody can joke!" Melanie exclaimed, taking the phone from him. "What else can you do?"

"Ah…play lacrosse," he replied, shoving his hands into his pockets. "That's about it."

"That's lame. You have to have some secret talent." He shrugged. She mimicked his motion and then punched in the number to Erica's house using muscle memory. She had the number memorized since she was eight. "Eri! Hey!" she said once Erica picked up. "Listen, something happened, can you get your mom to come pick me up?"

"Yeah, but why? What happened to Stiles?"

"It's a long story. I just need her to come get me."

"Okay, hold on." Melanie placed a hand on her hip while she waited for Erica to relay the message. She could hear her yelling for her mom. A few seconds later she heard her mom yell back. Then Erica came back on the line. "She says she'll be there in twenty minutes."

"Great, thanks. Wait! I'm not at Lydia's! I'm at Issac's."

"Lahey?"

"Yeah, that one."

"Why are you at Isaac's?"

"Due to a combination of Scott, of Stiles, of a pool, and a broken phone. Look, I'll explain all of this once I get there, okay?"

"Okay, okay. See you soon."

"See ya."

Melanie hung up the phone and tossed the phone back to Isaac. "My ride will be here in twenty minutes," she relayed, crossing her arms across her chest in a loose manner. She turned to the bookshelf again. "So where'd you get your taste in music?"

"It's mostly from my brother, Camden," Isaac replied. Melanie nodded. She vaguely remembered hearing about his passing a few years ago. She remembered that Isaac wasn't in school for about a week after that news broke out. "He liked a lot of different genres and whenever he heard something he thought I would like he'd pass the CD onto me."

"You have some good stuff here. Though I do have to make a comment about…" she paused for dramatic effect and then pulled a CD off the shelf, "Taylor Swift." Her eyebrows lifted and she pressed her lips together to try and contain her amused smile.

His mouth dropped open, as if he were about to say something, but then he closed it. It opened again and then he closed it again. He rested his palm against his mouth and squinted at her as she laughed. "It's okay; I know she has some catchy songs. I'm not judging," she said, putting the CD back. "It's okay to like what you like." Pausing she asked the question that came to her mind, "Do you listen to her music to pump yourself up before a lacrosse game?"

Isaac rolled his eyes. "No, I don't need music for that," he replied, sitting on the edge of his bed. "I have a different sort of motivation."

"Oh yeah?" Now she was interested. Tucking her still damp hair behind her ears she sat down next to him. "What's that? D'you imagine the other players are bugs that you crush beneath your feet or something?"

"No. I, ah…" he turned his eyes away and clasped his hands together, "I just…think that every person is standing in my way of gaining control."

Her eyes squinted. At the core of it that was what lacrosse was about, in a way, gaining control of the ball and trying to keep running with it. But it wasn't what he said that made her confused. It was the faraway look in his eyes as he spoke. As if he was looking but he wasn't exactly seeing.

"So what made you want to play lacrosse in the first place?"

He shrugged. "It's one of the few sports my brother didn't play at Beacon Hills," he replied.

She opened her mouth, ready to ask him to elaborate, but the door flying open and crashing against the opposite wall stopped her. She flinched at the noise but it made Isaac fall off the edge of the bed and onto the floor. Once he saw his father standing in the doorway he scrambled up to his feet.

"Dad!" Isaac uttered, rubbing the back of his neck. "You, ah, you weren't supposed to be home yet."

Mr. Lahey grunted, his eyes swiveling over to Melanie who sat stock-still on the bed. "I can see that," he said calmly. "Isaac, why don't you introduce me to your friend here?"

"Uh. This is Melanie," he said, shuffling sideways. He kicked backwards and pushed her forgotten clothes beneath his bed. "She's…she's in my class."

Melanie leaned forward and waved at him. "Hi, it's nice to meet you," she said as cheerfully as she could muster. If her words could be seen in the air they would be stabbed to death by the daggers Mr. Lahey was shooting out of his eyes. She slowly lowered her hand and rubbed her lips together. Maybe it wasn't nice to meet him.

"What's going on here?" Mr. Lahey asked.

"She just…I-I found her walking around and…and she was wet—"

"Oh, I can see that," Mr. Lahey interrupted him, cutting Isaac off. Melanie felt a shiver roll down her spine with the way he glanced at her. "Look, I'm glad you helped someone in need. And I bet you're happy, this is the first time a girl's been in your room, so you should be proud about that." This time Melanie wasn't alone when she blushed, Isaac's cheeks turned a bright shade of red as well. Mr. Lahey grunted. "But I don't want to end up on some teen pregnancy show. That's not what happened here, right?"

"No, Dad, of course not," Isaac mumbled.

"Of course not," Mr. Lahey repeated. With a snort-like laugh he added, "You could only be so lucky." Isaac hung his head and Melanie scratched at her hair line for something to do to block herself from having to look at Mr. Lahey. Something about the way he was speaking and looking at them made her skin crawl and her muscles tense up. "Do you need a ride home?" Mr. Lahey asked.

"N-No sir," Melanie replied. "I have someone coming for me. In fact I think I'll just go wait outside for them." She bounced off the bed and onto her feet to squeeze past Mr. Lahey and out the door. Once she moved past him she felt as if she could breathe. It was amazing how one person could change the atmosphere in a room.

"Wait, Melanie, wait," Isaac called after her as she weaved through the house. He finally caught up to her on the front porch, which she regretted because she was now jumping around to keep her feet from having to touch the cold stone. "I'm sorry about him. About my dad. He's just—"

"Critical? Condescending? An ass? Insensitive?" she rattled off, still bouncing from foot to foot.

"Intense," Isaac offered up. "He, ah, he means well…in his own way."

"Look, Isaac, it's fine," she said, waving her hand. "Parents are weird. You should meet mine." Headlights illuminated the front porch as Mrs. Reyes pulled up in her Nissan sentra. "Anyway, thanks for taking me in. It was very sweet of you."

"I couldn't let you freeze to death."

"Well, you _could_ have but you didn't so thanks." Waving to Mrs. Reyes she added, "That's my ride. I'll bring you your clothes on Monday. They'll be washed." She hesitated and said, "Hey, if you ever want to hang out or something…give me a call. …Only not now 'cause I don't have a phone but when I get one and if you want to hang out or just chat or something then you can. Yeah, okay! I'm gonna go now. See you in school!"

Melanie jumped off the porch and ran down the concrete path to the driveway. She hopped into the passenger seat, thanking Mrs. Reyes, and buckled up. As they backed out the driveway she waved to Isaac who still stood on the porch. He waved back and turned back towards his house as the drove down the street. Melanie's head tilted in curiosity as she caught the look in his blue eyes once the headlights swung over his body again.

He looked afraid.

**# # #**

"Let me see it," Erica said firmly as she tugged on the collar of the shirt that Melanie wore. After Mrs. Reyes pulled up at her home Melanie had barged out of the car, into the house, and straight up to Erica's room to tell the whole story about what had happened. Erica sat, listening attentively as she ate from a carton of Ben and Jerry's Ice cream. But she put that aside as soon as she mentioned Jackson talking to her.

"It's not that bad, I swear," Melanie replied, leaning away from her and grabbing onto the fabric to pull the other way.

"If it's not that bad you'd let me see," Erica pointed out.

"Maybe I don't want you worrying over every little thing," Melanie shot back.

"Let. Me. See. It," Erica said while poking her in the cheek with each word.

"Okay, fine!" Begrudgingly, Melanie pulled the shirt down until the collar slipped past her shoulder so she could see the bruises left on her skin. She had to keep her facial expression under control so as not to alarm Erica. She didn't think it was _that_ bad but looking at it, she underestimated Jackson's grip. She could almost see individual finger placements where he had grabbed her. A fire flared up in her belly and she curled her fingers into a fist.

"That asshat," Erica growled. "Mels, you _can't_ keep letting him do that."

"Oh don't you worry! If he was embarrassed before that a girl got a shot past him he's gonna wish he never got out of bed on Monday," Melanie vowed, rubbing her arm. "Just…don't tell my mom. Or _your_ mom. 'Cause then the principal will get involved and I don't want it to turn into this big thing."

"Your secret's safe with me," Erica replied. "_But_. The second I don't think you can handle it I'm breaking the promise. Fair warning."

"You wouldn't be my Erica if you didn't have my back," Melanie agreed, leaning over to kiss her cheek. "So what'd you do all night?"

Erica tilted her head forward so her hair hid her face but Melanie caught the smile in her voice, "Waited for you to come back."

Melanie reached behind her to grab a pillow and knocked Erica over the head with it. "Bonk!" she said, verbally adding in a sound effect. "Okay, okay, since you missed me _so much_ I'll allow you to put on _13 Going on 30._ But this will be the _only_ time I watch it," she said, her voice getting louder with the last few words so she was heard over Erica's squeal of excitement as she grabbed her laptop off the floor.

Huffing but accepting her face, Melanie tucked the pillow beneath her arms and lay across the bed. She watched as Erica clicked around the on the screen to bring up the DVD player. Melanie absentmindedly rubbed her shoulder while she waited and then a thought occurred to her.

"Oh crap."

"What?" Erica hummed.

"Isaac has my bra."

Erica's fingers froze on the keyboard. The two girls looked at each other. Erica was the first to crack. Despite her lips pressing together the sound of a rolling snort-like laugh sounded in her throat. That got Melanie smiling and soon the two used each other to try and stay upright amidst their body-wracking laughter.

* * *

><p><em><strong>an**_ - So we have a longer scene with Isaac and Melanie. I don't know about you but I already like them together. And Melanie made the team! Second line, but better than nothing! And once again Erica's and Melanie's friendship makes me squishy inside. Now things are starting to get interesting with Derek showing up. Thanks for reading! Please review!


	6. (Bitter)sweet Revenge

**Chapter 6: (Bitter)sweet Revenge  
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The weekend slipped by and then next thing they knew Monday morning came again bright and early to the scent of buttery pancakes and sizzling sausage. The girls shuffled into the kitchen, their eyes still heavy with sleep, well, the lack of sleep. Throughout the weekend they managed to accumulate at least ten hours of sleep over the two day period but it was worth it to them. Their sleepovers were cherished weekly traditions. No matter what happened they always ended up regretting staying up so late over the weekend but then they would go ahead and do it again because it was the only time they could actually be together now.

The further they progressed in school the busier they became. Well, the busier _Melanie_ became. She helped in her mom's shop odd afternoons, she swam and was on the lacrosse team, she played the piano, she sang. She did this and this and this. And while that was going on Erica would either stay in her room waiting for Melanie to call for their nightly chats or she would have a doctor's appointment to take up the time. Either way she was always waiting on her or waiting for something. It didn't bother her, it was how things always had been, but she just didn't notice it until now.

Erica waited to be picked up for school or dropped off because she couldn't drive. She waited for a meeting to be let out to have five minutes between classes to chat about some piece of gossip she had heard. She waited to be acknowledged by someone who had hit her with their backpack but that one never came. It was as if she were invisible. And what kind of life was that? Having to constantly rely on someone wasn't her idea of living life and she had three people she needed to rely on: her mother, her doctor, her best friend. The day she would be able to stand on her own two feet would be the taste she could finally taste freedom.

But for now she didn't mind getting to hear the ways that Melanie was going to get revenge on Jackson and Stiles.

"Are you sure your shoulder's okay?" Erica asked as they entered the school building.

Melanie groaned long and loud, tilting her head back in the process. Jackson, who just so happened to walk by at the exchange, gave her an odd look. "Trying to call for a mate, Crowe?" he asked, his usual smug smile appearing on his face. "You won't attract anyone with that bellowing, sad to say."

"It made _you_ stop, didn't it? What does that say about you?" she shot back almost without a second thought. The words came out of her mouth with ease, almost as if she were having a conversation about the weather. Looking up she spotted him glaring at her and she happily waved back, continuing down the hall.

"He looked as if he wanted to kill you," Erica commented as they approached Melanie's locker.

"Yeah, I'd like to see him try anymore than he already has," she replied, tossing her lacrosse stick in. She was going to get her official practice jersey and game jersey that day. Number 16. She couldn't wait to get her hands on it. "Besides, he'd hear it from Lydia if he ever really beat me up. As cocky as he is, the boy's whipped."

As she pulled books out of her locker she felt Erica nudging her shoulder. Melanie regarded her, noting Erica's wide shifting eyes and the clearing of her throat. Was Jackson behind her? Monday's were hell to deal with, she didn't want him on her ass too all because she couldn't quit while she was ahead. Instead when she whirled around she came face to face with Isaac. Well, face to chest. She had to take a step backwards and tilt her head back to properly look at this face.

"Hey Isaac," she greeted him with a bright smile and wave. She snapped her fingers and tugged her backpack around to the front so she could dig in it. "I have your clothes here…somewhere…" she murmured, moving her hand around. "Ah! Here ya go!" she wiggled the shirt and pats out from the space her open zipper allowed. "It's all here, freshly washed and dried. Thanks again for helping out."

"You're welcome, no big deal," he replied. He accepted his clothes and opened his own backpack. After shoving them in, he then pulled hers out and handed them to her. "They're washed and dried too." She accepted them and shoved them into her backpack. "So…I'll see you in French, then."

Melanie nodded. "Sure. See you later." The bell rang, signaling for the students to head off to home room. Melanie waved as Erica looped her arm through hers and then two walked off down the hall.

"Hmm, he's cute," she noted, glancing over her shoulder.

"Hmm?" Melanie hummed, lifting her bag higher on her shoulder. She glanced back and then shrugged. "Yeah, I guess. Okay, let's get to class. 'M not in the mood to see Stiles yet. And I _may _be arrested for murder if I do."

"Geeze, if you're this annoyed I can't imagine how Allison feels."

Melanie rolled her eyes. Even when Scott wasn't involved Allison still found a way to come up. It was beginning to get annoying.

The day moved by in a slow, uneventful manner and the next thing Melanie knew she was gearing up for lacrosse practice that day. She had to stop in Coach Finstock's office to get her jersey, which meant she had to pass through the boy's locker room to get there. Well she didn't _have_ to but going the long way around just to get her jersey was a bit ridiculous and when else would she have a good excuse to see a bunch of half naked boys? She was only human. A human that was going to enjoy herself.

She grabbed the handle of the locker room door before she could change her mind and pumped it, only to be slapped in the face by the very distinct smell of boy sweat and grass. Blinking rapidly to keep tears away, she regained her composure and walked past the group of lockers, keeping her eyes on the door of Finstock's office…which didn't last too long as boys milled about in different levels of undress, of which she couldn't help but admire.

Their realization that a girl was in the locker room fluttered across them like a wave and soon they were whistling at her and asking if she enjoyed the view. She smirked. Of course she did, but there was no reason to stroke their already large egos.

"Heyy," Stiles drew out his greeting as he stepped in front of Melanie who crossed her arms. "There's my favorite girl. My favorite girl who can't stay mad at me. Did you do something different to your hair? It looks great! Very…washed!"

Melanie pursed her lips. "Unless this rambling leads to an apology for _ditching_ me, you can stop talking right now," she told him.

"It does! It does! But, uh, wait a second…I have…something…" Stiles dug around in his bag which dangled off his shoulder. Melanie watched his frantic movements for a few seconds until he withdraw a large candy bar. Her eyes widened but then she caught herself and replaced her expression with one of indifference despite drool threatening to run down her chin. "Ah! There we go! It's a Hershey bar!" he waved it around as if she couldn't see the chocolate if he held it still. "But not just any Hershey bar! A _one pound_ Hershey bar! So? Is Stiles forgiven?"

"Why is Stiles talking in third person?" Melanie demanded, her eyes on the candy.

"Because Stiles doesn't want to die," he replied.

"So you think that you can buy my forgiveness with a bar of chocolate?" she asked, keeping her tone even. "You think I'm that cheap?" His face faltered and a look of horror appeared in his maple colored eyes. He began to stammer an apology but she smiled and snatched the candy bar out of his hand. "Lucky for you, you can," she said and unwrapped a corner of it, taking a bite. "I'm a cheap bitch, honestly," she added. She stuck her tongue out to catch any chocolate that had missed her mouth.

"So you forgive me?" he breathed.

"You're forgiven," she said while nodding. "What was wrong with Scott, anyway?"

He faltered. "What?"

"What was wrong with Scott? You said it was some kind of emergency. Must've been pretty big if he left precious Allison alone."

"Yeah, it was kinda…big…" his words died off as his eyes narrowed into a squint. Melanie's eyes shifted under his gaze and she widened her eyes, silently asking why he was looking at her like that. "Your eyes are green," he stated.

"Must be reflecting off my shirt," she said easily, taking another bite of her candy.

Stiles appeared unimpressed. "Oh, yeah, sure. I've heard of that phenomenon. That shirts can make someone's eye color _totally_ change. Yeah, 'cause Science works that way."

"Shut up, Piles," she mumbled, making a face.

"And will you _stop_ calling me Piles? I don't have hemorrhoids!"

"No, but it gets on your nerves so it's funny." She affectionately tapped the tip of his nose with her finger. "Besides, I'm not…jealous or anything. I never liked Scott, I liked that he gave me his muffin. If you gave me your chocolate muffin instead of _laughing_ about me dropping mine I would've liked you too. I told you I'm cheap." She patted his shoulder. "Now, if you'll excuse me," she continued, "I have a jersey to pick up."

He mumbled a goodbye and she slipped past him and entered Coach's office. She knocked on the door frame and waited for him to look up from his paperwork. His eyes immediately jumped down to the candy bar in her hand and he sighed heavily.

"Oh, for the love of…Crowe, am I going to have to worry about you crying in the middle of the field?" Coach demanded.

Melanie scoffed, feeling the sting of his offending comment. "I'm not on my period, Coach," she stated, watching him flinch at the word, "and even if I _was_ I get angry, not sad."

"Good. Because I don't want another Greenburg on the field. All because he broke his finger. It was pathetic. Never seen that many tears since a sprinkler broke."

"Can I just have my jersey please?"

Coach stood and moved to the other side of the room. He yanked open a drawer and rifled through it until he pulled out three jerseys: one red practice jersey, one white practice jersey, and one red playing jersey. Bundling them all up he tossed them to her. Her face split into an exuberant smile as she ran her fingers across the numbers on it and then her name on the back. Holding the porous fabric in her hands, it finally hit her. She made the team.

"What, are you gonna hug me now? Get changed and get out there!" Coach barked.

"Yes sir!" Melanie happily replied, throwing in a salute for good measure. She practically floated all the way to the girl's locker room and was on Cloud 9 when she exited to get to the field. Nothing could touch her. Sunshine practically poured out of every orifice in her body. She didn't even mind that they had to deal with a brutal warm up session before they took the field for one-on-ones.

Danny was in goal and Jackson, with a long stick, was acting as a defender that they had to get past. His steel-eyed stare could be seen through the cage on his helmet. He wasn't messing around, not with their first game being that Saturday. Everyone was pumped up for it. Word around the halls was that it was going to be a big turnout. They would need all the support they could get.

Jackson was on fire at practice that day, Melanie had to admit. He knocked around anyone that got in his way or tried to score on him. Danny appeared to be getting bored in goal, not having anyone effectively try to take a shot on him. The line dwindled down as each player tried and failed to make a shot, which tore Coach down the middle. He shouted support for Jackson's force but then shouted at everyone else for not getting past him.

Then it was Scott's turn. Standing in between him and Stiles, Melanie licked her lips as Coach yelled for her, seemingly snapping him out of a daydream he was having. "Good luck," she whispered, hoping he could hear her encouragement. She could feel tension between him and Jackson before the whistle even blew for him to start running. She tugged at her collar. It made it hard for her to breathe. She held her breath as she watched Scott charge for Jackson…only to have Jackson knock him off his feet.

"Damn," Stiles whispered behind her. Damn was right. Melanie's fingers tightened against her stick as Coach began to berate him in front of everyone, comparing him to his dead grandmother. She shook her head. That was uncalled for. And Jackson seemed to be enjoying the moment, with how big his smirk was.

"McCall's gonna do it again! McCall's gonna do it again!" Coach taunted as Scott ran back to the front of the line.

"Er…Scott? You okay?" Melanie asked, noting his now stiff posture.

"I'm fine," he responded, his voice gruffer than she had ever heard it.

The whistle blew again and Scott charged. Jackson ran to meet him and, surprisingly, Scott bowled him over. Jackson flew off his feet and landed hard on the ground, grasping his shoulder. Behind him, Scott fell to his knees, holding his head. The team broke formation and ran to Jackson's side; Stiles ran past them all and went for Scott.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa," Coach uttered in rapid succession as they gathered around Jackson as he rolled around on the ground, still clutching his arm. Melanie yanked off her helmet and stared down at him, his face scrunched up in pain. The sight made her uncomfortable. In the years that she had known Jackson he had never showed weakness, no matter how injured he was.

_Scott!_ Tearing her eyes away, Melanie lifted her head and searched the field for him. Her eyebrows lowered and her eyes narrowed when she spotted him and Stiles running away from the field, crouched low.

"Where are they going?" Isaac asked her.

She shook her head. "Maybe he pissed himself in excitement from knocking Jackson over," she offered up. "_I _would have." Isaac laughed and then changed it to a cough when he caught Jackson glaring at him from the grass. Melanie lightly punched him on the arm. Her attention had started to turn back to Jackson when something caught her eye.

Someone was standing off in the distance by the opposing bleachers. Someone in a black leather jacket and white t-shirt. Her head tilted as the hair on the back of her neck stood up. She had seen him somewhere before, but where…? The realization hit her with a jolt. Lydia's party! He drove Allison home. She continued peering at him and noticed that his gaze wasn't on their fallen teammember but something else. Melanie looked over her shoulder. Scott and Stiles were small dots in the distance as they ran towards the school. Melanie looked forward again and blinked.

The man was gone.

**# # #**

Melanie didn't have long to think about how weird Scott and Stiles were being or even that man that she saw on the fields. Come Wednesday she had another matter to worry about. She knew something was off when she set foot in school that morning. As soon as she lowered her headphones from her ears she noticed the whispers firing off around her rapidly as she walked towards her locker.

She checked her hair for flyaways, rubbed a finger against her teeth to cheek for food, checked her shirt for stains, and then started spinning around on the spot to check if her time of month had come earlier than she expected. Nope, her ass was clear. So what in the world could have happened that she suddenly had the attention of people who didn't know she existed before?

"Trying to chase your tail?" Allison commented, coming in through the door behind her. Lydia's eyes flickered up to the ceiling and she pursed her lips as she stood by.

"You could say that," Melanie replied, holding out her arms to keep her balance. "People are being weird; I wanted to check that I wasn't seeing red."

"That's why you wear black on those days," Lydia sighed, as if that were the most obvious thing in the world. "Not only is it slimming but good coordination can be a…good surprise," she continued, directing the last part of her sentence to Jackson who had walked by in that moment. Lydia grabbed him by the back of the neck and pulled her lips down to his. Melanie made a face and turned away while Allison looked down to avoid the display of affection.

"Mmm, don't tease me," Jackson muttered as soon as he pulled away.

"Oh, but I know how much you love to be teased," Lydia cooed.

Melanie and Allison exchanged a look. As much as she wasn't too fond of the new girl she did appreciate that they had something in common besides French class—that they couldn't stomach Lydia's and Jackson's affection towards one another, especially when it crossed a line.

"So, uh, Jackson. How's your shoulder?" Melanie asked, changing the subject.

All traces of human emotion that had once occupied his face dropped at her question and a mask appeared in its place. He snorted, wrapping an arm around Lydia's shoulders. "How do you think my shoulder is, Crowe?" he asked. "And why d'you care?"

"Uhhh, I'm your teammate? I was just checking—"

"Checking that I could play or else McCall takes over? Yeah. Fat chance." He dropped his arm from Lydia's shoulders and stepped closer to Melanie, towering over her. He jabbed at her chest with his finger. "I'm playing in that game. And you can let McCall know that I'm playing." With one final push to her shoulder he turned away and walked off with Lydia.

"Okay, I think he broke my sternum," Melanie mumbled, rubbing her chest. "I just don't get it. Why would Lydia date someone like him?"

Allison shrugged. "Maybe she sees something we don't."

"She must have x-ray vision, then. So what's up? Why aren't you trotting after them?"

Allison tucked her hair behind her ear and rubbed her lips together. "Well, my French partner isn't here today. I was thinking maybe during class I could sit with you?"

"Ah – sure, why not?" Melanie replied. She needed to keep Scott on her good side if she was going to get any sort of answer out of him about why he's been acting weird lately, and being unnecessarily rude to Allison wasn't going to help her with that. "So what country are you reporting on?"

"Italy," Allison replied. "We're going to focus our project on its art and architecture. What about you? You and Isaac have Greece, right?"

"Yup," Melanie said, popping her 'p'. "I think we lucked out, Greece has a lot of history and mythology to boot. So we're going to do a report on some of the mythology and how it influenced current stories and religion and stuff." They walked into the library and waved to Ms. Morrell to let them know they were there so they couldn't be counted as absent. They sat down at a table and took out their books. "I wanted to act something out but I think that would've given Isaac a heart attack," she continued, flipping open a notebook. "So I get to spend my French class looking at naked people."

Dimples appeared in Allison's cheeks as she grinned but they quickly faded at a harsh whisper that reached both their ears, "Not the first people you've seen naked, not the last." She pressed her lips together and avoided the confused expression on Melanie's face as she whirled around to see who it was that spoke.

"Hey, uh, why don't you tell me a story about Zeus?" Allison asked, pointing at a book with her pen.

Melanie turned her suspicious look to Allison. It slowly faded as she pulled her eyes down to her notebook. "Well, he rules the Olympians and Mount Olympus. He is the god of sky and thunder in Greek Mythology. He's usually married to Hera and according to some sources he is the father of Aphrodite—which makes sense in retrospect. He's widely known for his erotic escapades—"

The whisper came again, "She would know all about that."

Melanie stopped her reading and looked around again. No one looked her in the eye; they turned away as soon as she came into eye contact with someone. When she turned back around in her seat Allison was biting on the end of her pen.

"Okay, what do you know?" Melanie demanded.

"I don't know anything," Allison replied.

"_Allison_," she said sternly.

Allison sighed. "Look, it's just…I-I don't think you want to see it," she said.

"See _what_?" Melanie demanded.

"D…Don't you have your phone?"

"It got busted when I fell into Lydia's pool—just tell me what you're talking about," Melanie said, holding up her hand to stop Allison from changing subjects. She was on alert now. She wasn't imagining the whispers and the pointing. And if it wasn't anything on her end that had to mean it was something else. Something out of her control.

"Okay…but I tried to warn you," she said. She removed her phone from her pocket, tapped around with her thumb, and then held it out for Melanie to take.

Melanie grasped the phone and tapped it to brighten up the screen and then her stomach dropped. It was a picture attached in a text message of her and Isaac from a few days before, exchanging clothes. The comment beneath the picture made her heart ram in her chest: LACROSSE WHORE. CHEAP. ACCEPTS CHOCOLATE FOR SERVICES. Everything inside her came crashing down. She felt a prick behind her eyes and pressure building up in her nose. But she lifted her chin, cleared her throat, and said, "Some people have too much time on their hands," and handed the phone back.

"Are you…okay?" Allison asked slowly.

"Yeah," Melanie replied. "It's just idiots trying to start something because they're bored. No big deal. Besides," a slow smile appeared on her face, "they could've used a cuter picture of me." Allison's dimples deepened as she laughed.

When Isaac sat down next to her for them to continue work on their project she kept her words and her face light amidst the whispering going on behind her back. After the class ended and she was put at the mercy of the other students in her school she kept her head high and did her best to ignore the comments and the hissing but their words were barbed. They struck her time and time again and embedded themselves in her skin until they burned.

But still she tried to ignore it. Tried to ignore the points and the whispers and the stares and the ringing phones. Stiles and Scott came up to her, to ask how she was doing but she remained cheerful and shifted the conversation over to the game they were going to play on the weekend. Apparently all of their parents were going to make it out to watch them play. The turnout was going to be big.

But even that news didn't stop the lurking monster from getting to her, from jumping out of nowhere by pelting her back with Hershey kisses. Palms slapping against one another sounded like gunshots as two boys guffawed at their joke. Looking them in the eye, Melanie picked one off the floor, removed the foil, and popped it into her mouth and then she thanked them for her snack.

During Algebra class Erica passed her a note, asking if she was okay but Melanie ignored it. Of course she was okay. Couldn't she see the smile on her face or the lilt in her voice? Couldn't Erica see that she was doing fine ignore it all?

But the lump in the pit of her stomach sat heavy like a rock. It bounced around her insides and made its presence known despite how hard she tried to ignore it pressing on her nerves. The pressure increased the longer the school day went on. Allison would give her pitying looks from time to time, as if she were trying to apologize for everything that was going on, which only made her annoyed, as much as she tried not to let on.

Finally she caught a break. She could breathe once the school bell rang and classes ended for that day. She swapped out her books for homework that night and told Erica that she would see her later before going to the locker room for practice.

It was empty by the time she got in, the trailing voices of the female soccer players faded once the door closed. Heaving a large, cleansing sigh Melanie went to her assigned locker and spun the dial on her combination lock. Each correct number made a clicking sound and then she yanked down on the lock to removed it. Shoving it in the mesh side pocket of her backpack, she wrenched open her locker door.

"What the hell!?" she uttered, feeling a cascade of Hershey kisses rain down atop of her head. Lifting her hands, she blocked the flow of candy as best as she could. They bounced off her palm and scattered across the floor around her feet and beneath the wooden bench between the two rows of lockers. Finally the candy stopped falling and any previous noise was replaced by deafening, still silence.

Melanie pushed her bangs out of her face and looked at the silvery candy that littered the floor and pooled around her feet. The prick behind her eyes came back, much stronger than before. Pressure built behind her nose and no matter how hard she clenched her teeth her lower lip began to tremble.

"_Fuck!_" she yelled, slamming her lacrosse stick against the lockers. The loud clang echoed in the empty room. Yelling again, she threw down her stick and then her backpack followed suit. A dam behind her eyes broke and tears poured down her face. Her breaths came out thick and heavy and her face burned from her efforts to keep everything inside. But that was the straw that broke the camel's back.

Pressing her back against the cool wall of lockers, her legs gave way until she sat on the dirty floor, head in her arms, her body wracking with unrestrained sobs. She was crying so hard that she didn't hear the door to the locker room open or someone approach until she felt a presence next to her.

"Are you okay?" Erica asked softly.

"What do you think?" Melanie wailed, lifting her head. "People think I slept with Stiles and Isaac and they think I was _paid_ for it in _chocolate_ and they think that I slept my way onto the team!"

Erica shoved her had in her purse and pulled out a package of tissues. She pulled one out and held it up to Melanie's nose. "Blow," she instructed. Melanie blew her nose into the tissue and Erica pinched it, sealing the mucus inside.

"What are you still doing here? I thought your mom was taking you home," Melanie mumbled, wiping her eyes with her sleeves, her sentence peppered with paused due to her intake of breath.

"I knew you'd need me sooner or later," Erica replied. "And I may have detention."

"What for?" Melanie asked.

Erica gave a bashful smile and replied, "I may have tried to beat Jackson up for some comments he was making."

"You tired to beat up Jackson?" Erica nodded. "Jackson?" She nodded again. "Jackson _Whittemore_."

"He can't just say shit about my best friend," Erica said, reaching out and brushing hair off of Melanie's face. "That's not okay."

"What are you going to do? Beat up the entire school?"

"I can try, but I know something better that will work."

"Oh yeah, what's that?"

"Show them up," Erica stated. Melanie blinked. That was it? That was all she had to say about the matter. Erica nodded her head, as if reading Melanie's mind. "They think you slept around to get on the team, show them how hard you worked out on that field today. Show them how hard you worked tomorrow. Show them how hard you worked by being a key member to the team. Coach Finstock put on on it for a reason, right? Show. Them. Why," she said, tapping Melanie's nose with her finger with each word. "You went against all the naysayers before. Do it again. Be the Melanie that I admire."

Tilting her head, Melanie rested it on Erica's shoulder and breathed out a shaky breath. "Sometimes I wish it was just you and me in the world. It would make it much easier."

Erica kissed the top of her head. "If the world catered to our wishes, I'd want the same thing. But because it doesn't we have to make do and make it ours." Feigning ignorance she scratched her head and asked, "Who was it that said that this year we were going to make it 'ours'?"

"I did," Melanie replied, sniffing.

"Right. Now get your cute ass in your jersey and show these boys what a girl can do. I'm not going to be freezing my ass off for my best friend for nothing."

Punching Erica on the arm, Melanie brushed away any remaining tears that stained her cheeks. Erica was the first to stand and once she stood at her full height she grabbed Melanie's hands and pulled her to her feet, then she pulled her into a hug. "Mom's getting me after detention so call me afterwards, promise?"

"Promise," Melanie replied, her voice muffled by Erica's shirt.

The two parted and Melanie set about cleaning up the candy on the floor and then changed into her practice gear. Carrying her helmet and stick out to the field she apologized to Coach for being late and did her extra suicide runs as punishment. Panting afterwards, she trudged over to the bench to grab her helmet and get a swig of water.

"I…I tried getting people to stop talking," Isaac said quietly as the rest of the team came over for water. "Told them what happened. I think it helped but, um, you, uh, you doing okay?"

"Yeah," Melanie replied, looking around at the maroon wall surrounding her, the fire returning to her eye, "never been better."

**# # #**

The bitter cold didn't stop Melanie's nerves from jumping around that Saturday night nor did it deter the spirit of the Cyclone supporters in the stands. Everyone was bundled up in their hats, gloves, and scarves to support the lacrosse team on their big first game of the season. Parents and students alike crammed into the two bleachers, ready for the game to start. Nothing could beat the energy that flitted throughout the field.

"Oh! Look! There's my mom and dad!" Melanie pointed out happily as she walked with Scott and Stiles to the field. She bounced on her toes and waved at them. They pointed and waved back. Their smiles slipped off their faces when Melanie recoiled when she felt another familiar thunk against the back of her head. "Seriously, they're not done with that?" she mumbled, feeling her shoulders droop. It seemed the more she tried to ignore the talk the rest of the week the more relentless they became. And now her parents were around, couldn't they give her a break? "Maybe this was a mistake."

"Hey, whoa, no," Stiles said, whipping out his lacrosse stick to block her from walking, effectively stopping Scott, who was walking in between them, from walking as well. "You stop that right now. Just focus on lacrosse, okay? Just focus on lacrosse. You got your stick? You got your helmet? Good. Don't think about anything else. Block it all out. You got it? You good?" Melanie nodded her head and exchanged a look with Scott. His motivational speeches were a force to be reckoned with. "Alright. You can do this. Besides…I need someone to ride the bench with me while Scott's out there being all awesome."

"Thanks, guys. No pressure," Scott muttered as they approached the benches. Melanie's eyebrows lifted when Lydia approached and they almost launched off her forehead when she spoke to _Scott_. The expression on Stiles's face mirror how strange the moment was but the two still walked away to give them privacy.

"Erica, you came!" Melanie said happily as her friend approached. "And…you painted your face," she continued, noticing the number 16 on both cheeks in black. "Eri, you know that stuff makes you break out."

"So does my medicine," Erica replied with a shrug. "Besides, you're worth it," she added, tugging on Melanie's ponytail which sat low on her shoulder.

"I'm not even playing," Melanie pointed out, her breath forming a cloud in front of her when she sighed.

"That doesn't mean I still can't support you," Erica said. "Now go and warm that bench. I'll be sitting with your mom and dad."

They hugged quickly and Erica pushed her way through the crowd to get to the bleachers as Melanie rushed to catch up to Stiles. They sat down on the bench and got situated when Coach came by to sit. He shoved Greenburg off the bench and dropped down next to Jackson, asking if his shoulder was alright, which they all knew he would play on even if it _wasn't_.

A few tense minutes later the whistle finally sounded which was followed by a loud roar as the opposing team and the Beacon Hills Cyclones jumped up to take the field.

"Hey kid," Sheriff Stillinski greeted Stiles as he appeared behind the bench. Melanie had to work her muscles to keep herself from hopping onto the player next to her out of surprise. Stiles pulled the glove he had been chewing on out of his mouth and greeted his father in return. "So you think you'll see any action tonight?"

"Action?" Stiles repeated. "Maybe."

"You alright, dude?" Melanie asked, pushing his arm.

"Wha, me? Yeah. I'm alright. I'm great, even," Stiles replied, running a hand over his buzzed haircut. "Great, great, great, great."

Another whistle blew and the game started. Applause and cheers ran up and down the bleachers as Jackson got control of the ball and charged the field. He looked around and shot the ball to a teammate despite Scott waving that he was open. They tossed the ball back and forth to one another as they advanced.

"Oh, come on," Stiles groaned.

"Maybe they just don't see him," Melanie offered up.

"Yeah, maybe," Stiles replied but he didn't sound convinced.

The ball was knocked out of a player's hand and rolled harmlessly on the grass. Scott spotted it and went for it but in the same instant Jackson went for the ball. Jackson barely edged Scott out and knocked him out of the way as he scooped the ball up for himself. A groan went through the crowd as Scott fell onto his side. The grown quickly changed to a loud cheer as Jackson scored the first goal of the quarter with eleven minutes left. High fives were spread between Jackson and the team as Scott looked on, shaking his head.

Melanie stretched her legs out on the bench and watched as Coach jumped up and down the sidelines screaming for Jackson to get fired up. She shook her head in disgust. Were she and Stiles the _only_ ones who saw that Jackson had knocked Scott over just to get to the ball? Did they not see that no one was passing to him?

She shoved her thumbnail into her mouth and began to bite on it as the players set up again. Her leg bounced as her foot rapidly tapped against the ground. Her focus was broken by Stiles's utter of, "Oh, this is not gonna be good."

"Why, what's wrong?" Melanie asked.

"Turn around," Stiles replied, his jaw set.

Melanie whirled around. She didn't have to work hard to figure out what it was that Stiles was talking about. Lydia and Jackson were holding up a large sign that read WE LUV U JACKSON. She grimaced. Scott had seen it, of course.

"But he couldn't actually believe that Allison is into Jackson when she's obviously into _him_," she said aloud. She didn't get a response from Stiles who had gone back to chewing on his glove. She glanced back at the field and saw some of the boys huddling together, talking about something. Even if she strained to hear she wouldn't be able to tell what it was that they were saying over the noise and she couldn't read lips with their helmets blocking their faces.

The team set up for the next play and it wasn't until the ref spoke to Scott that she noticed his breath clouds coming out funny. "Stiles, Stiles, Stiles, Stiles," she said pushing his arm, never breaking her gaze at Scott, "what's wrong with him?"

"He, erm…_asthma!_" Stiles replied. "He's having a bit of a breathing problem. Yeah! He'll be fine."

She frowned. That wasn't an asthma attack, from what she remembered. His breathing was too even, too heavy. Almost as if he was heaving for his breath. She looked at Stiles out of the corner of his eye who looked much jumpier than he was before. First the party where he acted weird, then practice when, in the blink of an eye, he knocked Jackson out, and now this. Something in her gut told her that something wasn't adding up.

"Hey, how're we doing so far?" Isaac asked, dropping down on the bench. His chest heaved and a light sheen of sweat coated his skin.

"One point so far," Melanie replied. "Jackson scored it. He even—what the heck happened to _you_?" she asked, taking in his disheveled appearance. Her eyes roamed from his unkempt hair to the flush in his cheeks to the sweat on his face and to his twisted jersey.

"Had to ride my bike," Isaac replied. "Lost track of time. Did Coach notice?"

"Coach is too busy wanting to throw himself at Jackson's feet, don't worry."

Isaac nodded and brushed his arm across his forehead. The motion drew her attention to his knuckles which were red and scraped. A few still had shiny beads of blood on them but he didn't seem to notice as he fixed his jersey and got comfortable on the bench. The bowling whistle made her abandon the unasked question in her head. It could wait, the game was more important.

The game became a tense battle for the ball. Stick and hand checks increased in occurrence as the first quarter turned to the second and then the second turned to a third after half time. The longer they played the harder they hit. The teams moved back and forth across the field, blocking shots and knocking over anyone that got in their way.

Finally it all came down to the last minute and a half in the fourth quarter. Beacon Hills was down by two. They needed a good upset to win the game. The more the team refused to pass to Scott the more worked up Stiles got until Melanie and Greenburg had to hold him down with a lacrosse stick across his lap in fear of him jumping on the ref to try and see a bad call. They knew he would do it too, if he was unrestrained.

Jackson and the opposing player bowed down and fought over the ball for another play. The opposing player managed to get it and fling it into the air. It arced up and came back down. Another team player on the visiting team was prepared to catch it but Scott _stepped over their head_ to catch the ball.

"Did I just see that?" Melanie asked, unblinking.

"Yeah," Isaac replied, slowly nodding his head. "What's he on?"

"I don't know."

The crowd went wild as Scott sprinted down the field, turning and ducking out of the way of anyone that tried to stop him. It was almost as if they were all to slow for him. He took a shot and scored another goal with a minute and five seconds to spare. The crowd exploded in excitement; Stiles the most excited of all of them as he jumped to his feet and searched for high fives.

"Wooooo! Go Scott!" Melanie cheered, waving her stick in the air.

Coach and Stiles started marching down the sidelines, screaming for the team to pass to Scott. Melanie snuck a glance at Jackson and saw his face turn to stone. She couldn't help but smirk. That's what he got for pushing everyone around and feeling superior to everyone else and forgetting that they were all on the same team.

The teams lined up on the line again. There was no restraining the crowd as time ticked on once the whistle blew. Jackson lost the fight again. A white jersey player got the ball and started to run for it but stopped when he looked at Scott. Large clouds of breath seeped out of his helmet and the opposing player looked terrified. So terrified in fact that he _threw the ball to Scott_ and then moved out of his way.

Once again Scott raced to the goal. No one could catch him. No one could touch him. With a loud growl he threw the ball and it moved so fast it broke through the opposing goalie's net, tying up the game at thirty-nine seconds left.

"Did you see that? _Did you see that?_" Melanie yelled, slapping Isaac's shoulder. She barely noticed Stiles sitting back down on the bench in her excitement.

"No, I am _completely_ blind, Melanie," Isaac replied, grabbing her hands to stop her. Despite his words he had a small smile on his face.

"We can win this, we can totally win this! Pass to Scott! _Pass to Scott!_" she yelled.

Jackson crouched down at the line again. Once again the ball was captured by the other team but Scott managed to get it and charged the net. Beacon Hills was already on its feet, expecting the win as Scott slowed down, drawing out the clock, surveying his opponents.

"Oh no, no, no, no. Scott, no," Stiles muttered.

"What's wrong with you?" Melanie demanded, backslapping his arm. "We're going to win!"

Time ticked down. Scott stood still and no one charged him. They all looked at one another. Ten seconds. Nine seconds. Eight seconds. Scott's head twisted this way and that. His opponents didn't seem to know whether to charge him or stand their ground.

Seven seconds.

Six seconds.

Five seconds.

Someone made a decision. An opposing defender charged Scott. He drew back his arm, twisting at the waist, and threw the ball forward.

The crowd held it's breath.

The sound of the ball hitting against the net seemed amplified amongst the quiet field.

Beacon Hills won!

"Wooooooo!" the audience yelled, jumping up and down, applauding the come from behind win all because of Scott McCall.

"Scott, you did it! You did it! Woooooo!" Melanie cheered above the noise, using her cupped gloved hands to magnify her screaming.

"Yes!" Stiles screamed and then laughed. "Oh my god!" He opened his arms and welcomed Melanie's excited jump onto him as the stands emptied and the audience poured out onto the field.

He set her down and she began dancing in place, screaming at the top of her lungs at their win. They actually did it! They actually won! She hoped that they would set a good start on the season and if this wasn't it she didn't know what it could be.

The smile on her face that made her cheeks ache slowly faded when she spotted someone sprinting off the field. Number 11. Scott. Her eyebrows furrowed. Why was he running away when he had just won the game for them? When he became a hero?

_That's it_! If anyone knew anything about the world of Scott McCall it would be his buddy. Stepping over the bench she had occupied for the past hour, she marched over to Stiles who was talking to his father and tapped him on the shoulder until he turned around.

"What's his deal?" she asked, jerking her thumb over her shoulder to where Scott had disappeared into the darkness.

"Uh…." Stiles dragged, his eyes bouncing around. Melanie crossed her arms and waited. "He's just excited! He's like a puppy! You know how they get when they're excited. Need to empty that bladder."

She grabbed his shoulder and held onto his jersey before he could turn away. She was tired of being lied to. "Stiles Stilinski, there is something going on with Scott and I want to know what it is _right now_."

* * *

><p><em><strong>an**_ –We finally reached (and finished) episode two! Hooray! So I usually showed Erica's and Melanie's friendship from Erica's side and so, in this chapter, I decided to give you all a glimpse of their friendship from Melanie's side to explain why they're such good friends. You always have to have someone there to catch you when you fall, no matter how strong you are. I hope you enjoyed the last little bit of normalness before we jump into the supernatural side of things. Also, are my chapters too long or are they the right length for you all? Thanks for reading, please review.


	7. Strange Bedfellows

**Chapter 7: Strange Bedfellows  
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The game winning high carried Melanie through the weekend despite the fact that she didn't set foot on the field. The fact that they were able to score a come-from-behind win made her even more excited to be a part of the team. So what if she still got messages through Facebook about the photos? They didn't bother her. If anything it bothered the Crowe family supply of ice cream more than it bothered her. Good thing she was still phoneless otherwise her hidden candy stash would have taken a bad hit.

After the game she had a sleepover with Erica (which she had to fight hard to get because of the new curfew) and they spent the night recounting every second of the game. Well, Melanie spent the night talking about it. Erica pretended to be interested for Melanie's sake. She knew next to nothing about the rules, what hits were allowed, why sticks were longer than others, let alone the simple rules of the game but she wasn't one to damper Melanie's excitement about the sport. She didn't want to take away the sparkle in her eye or the passion in her voice.

But that soon switched over to the topic of Scott and how weird he was acting, at least by Melanie's standards'. She tried to analyze how he had suddenly became stronger than he was before, faster than he was before, had better aim, better reflexes, and didn't seem to need his inhaler any longer. But Erica wouldn't have it. She shut Melanie up by smacking her with a pillow which started a large pillow fight ending in them collapsed on her bed. It wasn't long before the two girls slipped into a heavy sleep brought on by the excitement of the week.

It was only broken by Mrs. Reyes waking them up due to Melanie's mother calling her and asking for her to come into the flower shop to help out. Melanie woke up and practically flew out of bed, running around to gather up her things to get to work. Mrs. Reyes wouldn't have her leaving without breakfast so she wolfed down some eggs, hash browns, bacon, and orange juice, bid Erica goodbye, and ran out the door.

She drove to work as fast as the speed limit would allow, yawning all the way. She was surprised she didn't get into a wreck. Getting a sleep-deprived teen to drive to work wasn't a good idea. She made a mental note to talk to her mother about that. After all, she wouldn't want to lose her only child would she? Melanie didn't think so.

She swung her red truck into the parking lot and took a space close to the entrance. Grabbing a snickers bar from the glove compartment, she left the truck and the door shut with her hip. Jabbing the remote to lock the door behind her she rushed inside and ducked behind the counter.

"You're late," Arabella noted as she came out of the backroom. Melanie didn't notice the disapproval in her voice.

"I know, I'm sorry," Melanie replied, holding the now unwrapped candy bar between her teeth as she tied the strings of her apron behind her. "But if you want to blame anyone, blame Mrs. Reyes. She wouldn't let me leave until I ate breakfast. What a horrible human being, right? Making sure I ate breakfast instead of being to work on time. Tsk tsk."

Arabella's eyes rolled over to her as she tried to fight a smile. "Don't be such a smartass," she muttered, grabbing a pair of scissors off of the counter. "Look, I have a few arrangements I need to finish in the back that I need you to deliver later, okay? Stay up here and handle anyone that comes in. if you need help with anything holler for me."

"Mom, I've been helping out since I was twelve. I think I know what I'm doing," Melanie replied, chomping into her candy. Moving it to the side of her mouth with her tongue she asked, "Hey, can I borrow the computer?"

"Did you forget what the definition of 'work' was?" she asked, her hand resting on the door of the backroom.

"It's…homework," Melanie replied. "Do you _want_ me to fail?"

Arabella looked as if she were about to argue. She brushed her hair off her shoulder and said sternly, "You get to work _the second_ someone comes in, understand?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Melanie muttered, waving her away. The door to the back room swung shut. She minimized the window for the program they used to organize flower orders and brought up an internet browser.

She went to a search engine and typed in 'superhumans'. She hummed as she waited for it to spit out links. Her eyes scanned over a definition, which she already knew, before jumping down a little further. She tapped her fingers against her chin as she read about genetic modification, cybernetic implants, nanotechnology, and other procedures that she was sure that Scott hadn't gotten over the course of one break.

She ran across an article about a few naturally superhuman people—such as someone impervious to temperatures or a blind man that used echolocation—but nothing about increased strength or any of the other abilities Scott possessed. She hit the back button and continued looking down the page.

The bell attached to the door frame jingled as the door slipped by. Pulling a face, Melanie minimized the screen she had been looking at and stood up straight as a woman with wavy brown hair approached. She hooked her bag higher on her shoulder and flashed a smile as she approached.

"Hi. Welcome to Flowerworks. How may I help you?" Melanie greeted with as much enthusiasm as she could muster despite her eyes widening. She hoped she the guest couldn't tell that she wasn't actually doing her job.

"Hi, I have just had a question to ask. It may be a bit strange," the lady said as her eyes moved around the shop, taking in the bright florals surrounding her.

"Trust me, I've heard a lot of strange questions around here," Melanie said with a wave of her hand. "From how edible they are to some, ahem, _questionable_ content that we put in the notes. Nothing fazes me."

"Okay then," the lady said with a challenging look in her eye as she rested her palm against the glass counter. "Do you happen to carry…aconitum?" Melanie blinked once. Twice. Three times. The lady stared back at her, waiting for a response as Melanie's mind jogged to catch up to the question. Okay, maybe something _could_ faze her. "Aconitum is—" the woman started.

"I know what it is," Melanie jumped in. "It goes by monkshood or blue rocket or devil's helmet. But it's mostly known as wolfsbane," she rattled off as if she were listing the ingredients in a Big Mac.

"Smart girl," the lady said with a smile. "You're into flowers then?"

"Well, I don't work at a flower shop 'cause it makes me smell good," Melanie replied. The lady laughed. "Anyway, I'm sorry, we don't sell wolfsbane."

"Are you sure?" the lady asked.

"Kinda?" Melanie replied, her eyebrows lowering. "It's against regulations to sell wolfsbae. Hell, you'd be crazy to go near it. It's super poisonous to humans. The toxins can soak through skin easily. If consumed it kills within six hours. I mean, the symptoms are horrible: vomiting, diarrhea, burning, tingling, numbness of the mouth and face, burning of the abs—and in severe cases—motor weakness. Not to _mention_ heart, lung, and organ failure." She gave a humorless laugh. "Talk about a draaaaag."

"Yeah, that does sound like a drag," the lady said with a little laugh. "I _did_ say it was a strange question."

"That you did, can't blame you for false advertising," Melanie agreed. "Can I interest you in something else? A rose arrangement perhaps? Sunflowers? Daisies? Buttercups?" Motioning the lady closer she said in a stage whisper, "Don't let the name fool you. They can't actually hold butter. I tried."

The lady laughed. "Thanks but I think I got everything I need," she replied. "Thanks anyway."

"Okay, bye," Melanie said while waving. "Weirdo," she muttered under her breath once the lady left.

She stepped over to the computer and maximized the internet window. Not finding any good results on the first page she clicked on the little number two at the bottom and moved onto the next page. She clicked the next page when nothing stood out and then the next and the next.

"Come on," she muttered, staring at the blinking cursor. She backspaced 'superhumans' and left the search box blank. She drummed her fingers against the counter as she thought. Maybe if she made her search more specific…. She typed in enhanced speed, enhanced strength, enhanced reflexes and put quotation marks around each entry to make sure the results came out with the words included. She clicked search and waited for the page to load.

The bell rang again and she jerked her head up only to relax when she saw who it was. "Are you stalking me, Isaac?" she asked as he approached the counter. "I'm beginning to see you around everywhere."

"Well, we go to the same school, are paired up for a project, and are on the lacrosse team together," he said counting on his fingers. "I'd say they're all coincidences."

"Damn," she muttered, "if you were following me I was hoping that you liked the view." His blinked rapidly and his mouth followed suit, opening and closing rapidly. "Joke. That was a joke, Isaac," she said and chuckled. "D'you have an order?" she asked, bringing up the software for the shop.

"Yeah, actually. It's, uh…" he paused and pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket, "gerbera vase arrangement."

"Hmmm…ah. Yeah, here it is," Melanie said as she located his order. "Gimmie a sec." Leaving the front she pushed her way into the back room. She moved past a rack full of flowers and turned the corner to see Arabella talking on the phone.

"Look, we'll continue this discussion later…bye," she said in a hushed whisper and hung up. "Yes, what is it?" she asked, shoving her phone into her pocket.

"Er…pickup for Lahey," Melanie replied.

"Ah, yes. It's right…here." Arabella picked up a nearby blue glass vase that held an arrangement of blue, white, pink, and orange flowers. "Here."

"Thanks." Melanie carefully accepted the vase. "Mom. Is, uh, is everything alright?"

"Yes, everything's fine sweetie," Arabella said, waving her hand. Her free hand rubbed against her forehead. "Please take that out front."

"Fine, okay." Pushing her back against the door, Melanie carried the arrangement up to the counter. Isaac stood up straight when she went to the computer and came up with the price. "That'll be $38.99." She held out her hand, waiting for him to drop the money into it. As he placed the money in her palm she noticed the now-healing scrapes on his knuckles and before she could stop herself she blurted out, "Isaac, how come your dad doesn't come to your games?" He froze, the question seemingly catching him off guard. She mentally hit herself. A question like that aimed at her would make her feel attacked, who knew how he felt. Leave it to her to stick her foot in her mouth. "I-I'm sorry, you don't have to answer that," she said.

"I-it's okay," he replied. He rubbed the back of his neck. "He – ah – he just gets busy. Working at the graveyard and everything."

"Oh, so he works the graveyard shift?" she asked. She smacked her palm against her forehead in the next second. "Stupid joke. Really bad joke. Sorry. I bet you get that all the time."

"Once or twice," he said modestly. He scooped the vase off the counter and cradled it in his arms. "So, uh, I guess I'll see you in school."

"Wait!" Melanie practically yelled. He visibly flinched at the sound. "Sorry. I was just gonna ask who the flowers are for."

He blinked and then his facial muscles relaxed to a smirk-like teasing smile. "Isn't there supposed to be some sort of confidentiality between buyer and seller?" he asked.

"Probably but I'm too nosy to follow that rule," she replied honestly.

He nodded and looked at the vase. "They're, ah, they're for my mom."

Her eyebrows lifted. "Oh! Is she in town? Was she away? Or is she sick? I hope she's not sick. That'd suck. I mean, obviously, no one likes being sick. Come to think of it, I've never seen her before, I don't think. I mean, we'd all know if she worked the graveyard. S'not exactly a _normal_ job, right?"

"She's dead," Isaac stated bluntly.

Melanie pressed her lips together and then let them go with a loud pop. "Well…you may want my autograph because I'm pretty sure I'm the only person in the world who can talk with both feet in her mouth."

"It's an interesting sight."

"Yeah, I bet it is."

Isaac chuckled; his laugh was quiet in the otherwise still store. "So, school?"

"That magical place where we're forced to learn, yeah," Melanie said. "See you then. Maybe we can actually get more of our project done without being interrupted." She tried to hide the bitterness in her voice but it seeped through.

He clicked his tongue as he backed towards the door. "Don't listen to 'em. Okay? It's just…a stupid story."

She sighed. "Yeah but your hard work wasn't trivialized in the aftermath," she pointed out. "Besides…the only thing I got out of it was a candy bar, apparently. I would hope that I'm worth more than that," she tried to joke.

He pressed his back against the door handle until it swung open. He paused, tapped his fingers against the glass vase in his hand and then said, "For the record, I think you are."

A smile slowly appeared on Melanie's face as his words sank in. "Thanks," she said.

"You're welcome."

He waved goodbye and she waved in return. Shaking her head, she stepped back to the computer and made sure she had processed the transaction correctly. Clicking away from the program, she raised the window she had been using to see what results she had gotten. Had she been drinking something at the moment she would have spat it out at the screen.

Every link that stared back at her had to do with werewolves.

**# # #**

"Something was attacked by the buses and we still have school? How does this make sense?" Erica groaned over the PA system's announcement the next morning. Monday's were always a drag but this was worse. They all saw the blood splattered on the back of the bus that morning and it was the topic of conversation in their homeroom classes. If the staff thought that any work was going to get done they were crazy.

"Its school, nothing ever makes sense," Melanie replied, leaning on the locker next to Erica's. She glanced around and licked her lips before lowering her voice. "Anyway, I have this theory—"

"Are you seriously still going on about Scott being a werewolf?" Erica sighed while yanking her history book out of her locker.

"Come on! It makes sense! The speed. The strength. The agility."

"The fangs?" Erica cut in. Melanie glared. "Mels, come on. There are _no_ such things as werewolves."

"Oh yeah? Then how do you explain Jackson's locker door?" Melanie asked, motioning to the dented metal across the hall.

"A prank," Erica replied, closing her own and secured it with her locker.

"The bus?"

"Prank," Erica replied, walking away. Melanie hurried to catch up. With Erica standing at 5'8" and Melanie only at 5'2" she had to increase her walking pace to fall into step.

"But Erica—"

"Remember you thought that Mr. Harris was a vampire?" Erica asked. Melanie twisted her mouth to the side. Of course she remembered. She spent the entire last year following him around between classes to see how he fared in the sun and if he avoided anything garlic-y. It was probably the reason he wasn't too fond of her. It didn't help that she just didn't get Chemistry.

"In my defense," Melanie said, holding up her finger, "no one else around here dresses that well and come on! He's so pale! He had to be a vampire!"

"Well, he isn't and Scott's not a werewolf," Erica replied, stopping by a classroom. She divided half of the books in her hands and gave them to Melanie. "I'll see you at lunch, alright? And I want to talk about something else other than your theories." When Melanie opened her mouth she quickly added, "_or lacrosse_." Melanie pouted and Erica patted the top of her head before turning and walking off. Melanie made a face at her back and entered the classroom.

She dropped her books and backpack down on one of the empty black-topped desks and glanced forlornly at a beaker sitting in front of her. She wished Erica was in this class with her. While they were in the same level Chemistry class it was split into two sections and, unfortunately, they were split up. If only they were together. Erica could be taking notes for the both of them while she continued her werewolf research.

She was up the entire previous night pouring over everything she could find. It couldn't be a coincidence that Stiles asked for her book and was looking for _werewolves_ specifically. It couldn't be a coincidence that twice in the past week Scott and Stiles disappeared from the lacrosse field in a hurry. _And_ it couldn't be a coincidence that Scott freaked out at a party that Lydia held on the night of a full moon. The only thing that could properly joss her idea would be that Scott was actually _that_ weird. But even she had to give him some credit.

Begrudgingly, she flipped open her notebook and tried to copy down the pictures that Mr. Harris was drawing on the board but she just couldn't figure out what they were for. There were some circles with plus signs in them and some circles that were blank and squiggles and lines and arrows. She wasn't sure if he was actually trying to teach or mess up her grade even more. As much as she tried to focus on what he was doing and saying she couldn't help but let her eyes travel over to Scott. She wasn't sure what she was looking for. Pointy ears. Fangs. Some extra hair. But all she saw was the same ol' Scott McCall.

Her eyes then moved over to Stiles as she tapped her pen against her paper. He was in on it too, she was sure of it. Why else could he be so jumpy whenever she asked about him. For all he knew she was just being concerned. (Well, she was concerned, but he was being too weird about everything for her concern to not expand. It was his fault, really.) But did that mean he was a werewolf too or was he just helping Scott out?

She set down her pen and rubbed the side of her head. She was beginning to get a headache trying to figure it all out. Her lack of sleep definitely wasn't helping. She gave her head a shake and picked up her pen again. _C'mon, Mel, concentrate. You have to pass this class!_ But how was anyone to concentrate when Thing 1 and Thing 2 were whispering so loudly? She sat up straight to hear them better and caught something about 'blood on the door', 'animal blood', 'rabbit', and 'remember'. Apparently that was enough for Mr. Harris to hear too for he turned around and commented on Stiles's lack of whispering.

"I think you and Mr. McCall would benefit from a little distance, yes?" Mr. Harris said, an eyebrow arching high.

"No," Stiles protested, as if that was the worst idea in the world.

Melanie snickered as Mr. Harris pointed at them and urged them to move and said, "Let me know if the separation anxiety gets to be too much." She pushed her books aside and lifted her backpack off the table as Stiles plopped down next to her.

"You two can't whisper for shit," Melanie whispered as Stiles got situated. "If you need a rabbit recipe my dad can get you something."

"Are you Crowes well versed in the consumption of game?" he asked.

"Yes, in fact, our preference is elk," she replied and stuck out her tongue.

Silence settled around the room but it didn't last long. One of the girls at the front shouted about people finding something and soon they were all crowding around the window to get a closer look. They watched as some EMTs wheeled someone out on a stretcher to a waiting ambulance in the parking lot.

"That's not a rabbit," Melanie heard Scott whisper as the body moved closer to the ambulance. She watched intently only to jump and scream with the rest of the class when the man on the stretcher popped up and screamed himself.

"This is good, this is good. He got up, he's not dead. Dead guys can't do that," Stiles rationed. Melanie peeked over her shoulder to see that he was directing his comment towards Scott rather than the rest of the room. She pursed her lips.

How interesting.

**# # #**

"Do people realize they're wasting their own money to continue a stupid joke?" Melanie asked, pausing her shuffle down the cafeteria line to see yet another Hershey kiss on the floor. "Unfortunately they're aiding in making me fat…"

"You're preaching to the choir," Erica grumbled. She had been reaching out for a muffin but then changed her mind and grabbed an apple instead. She dropped it on her tray and moved down to the cash register, her tray covered in food.

"If you came running with me a few mornings—"

"I already told you, I'm not getting up at the butt-crack of dawn." Erica paid for her food and waited for Melanie to do the same. They stood near the end, looking for a place to sit, and spotted an empty circle table in the corner. They made a beeline for it and sat down before anyone else could take the spot. "I don't even know how _you_ do it. You're evil in the mornings if you haven't eaten."

"I'm not _that_ bad," Melanie grumbled.

"Mellie, I still have the mark on my back when you kicked me out of my bed," Erica said with a laugh.

"You were taking up too much space!" Melanie cried out, as if that made all the sense in the world. "Anyway, I was talking about—"

"Hey, I said no lacrosse or werewolf stuff," Erica interrupted her as she poked at the meat on her plate.

"No! Not that! It's about the guy that got slashed up," Melanie said, waving her hand. "People are saying it's a mountain lion that attacked him. Can you believe that? A mountain lion getting this far at school?"

"It's no wonder they have a curfew," Erica commented.

"A bit too strict of one, if you ask me," Melanie agreed, popping some curly fries into her mouth. She had started putting another in her mouth when a sight caught her. Tilting her head she peered across the cafeteria. "Hey Eri, turn around and tell me what you see."

Popping up an eyebrow, Erica turned around and her eyes scanned the crowded cafeteria. Then her head, too, tilted as she stared at a table that was occupied by Allison, Scott, Lydia, Jackson, Danny, and Stiles. She turned back around. "That's weird," she muttered. "Since when do Lydia and Jackson and Danny sit with them?"

"That's the same thing I was wondering," Melanie replied. "Even if it was just because of Allison, Jackson would rather chew off his arm than do anything with Scott."

"Yeah, but it's Lydia. She can convince someone to kill someone else if she wanted to." Melanie gave Erica a look. "Okay, I'm exaggerating, but you know what I mean."

"Somehow I don't think you are," Melanie replied, glancing at the table again to see Stiles staring intently at Lydia. Erica caught her look and looked again. When she turned back around she slumped in her seat and pushed her tray away. "Eri—"

"I should just give up, shouldn't I?" she asked. "Who'm I kidding, thinking he'd like me or notice me? He's so freakin' obsessed with Lydia, no one else exists."

"And that's _his_ fault, _not_ yours," Melanie said sternly, pushing Erica's tray closer to her. "It's his fault that he can't see how wonderfully amazing you are and is chasing after someone who's in love with someone else. One day he'll see just what he's missing and he's gonna regret it for the rest of his life."

Erica made a noncommittal grunt and still refused to touch her food. Melanie started to say something else when Erica suddenly sat up straight. Screwing up her face in confusion, she reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone. Tossing her head to one side to move her hair out of the way, she brought the phone up to her ear. "Hello?" she said, plugging in her other ear. "Oh, yeah, she's right here." She removed the phone from her ear and held it out to Melanie.

"Hello?" Melanie answered, confusion evident in her voice.

"Yes, is this Melanie Crowe?" a deep voice asked.

"This is she."

"Melanie, hi, this is Dr. Deaton. I've been trying to contact you but it seems there is something wrong with your phone?"

Melanie sat up straighter in her seat. "Oh, yeah! I'm sorry about that. I had a little mishap with a pool. I should be getting a new phone soon. Anyway, are you calling about the puppy?"

"Yes, I am. I just wanted to let you know that he is in good health and that no one has claimed the little guy. Enough time has gone by that you can come and claim him if you have—"

"Yes! Yes yes yes yes!" Melanie cheered into the phone before he could say anymore. "When can I pick him up?"

"This afternoon if that is enough time for you."

"Yes, that's perfect! Thanks so much! I'll be there!" Melanie hung up the phone and squealed in excitement. "The dog is mine!"

"Your mom and dad are just going to let you keep him?" Erica asked.

"They will once they see his little face," Melanie rationed.

As soon as school let out Melanie rushed to the Animal Clinic, quietly thanking that they didn't have lacrosse practice that afternoon due to Coach having a prior commitment. Something about a whistle emergency. She didn't care; once lunch ended her mind became attached to getting the puppy as soon as possible.

She pulled into the parking lot and jammed on the brakes. She put the car in park, activated the emergency break, and jumped out of the truck. If the sleeve of her jean jacket hadn't gotten caught on the door she would have forgotten to close the door in her haste to get inside.

"Dr. Deaton! I'm here, I'm here. I'm ready for my puppy!" Melanie said breathlessly as she burst inside.

"I can see that," Dr. Deaton said with a little laugh. "He's over here," he continued, motioning her to a table that the little dog was sitting on. "He's had all of his shots needed and he's gained some weight so he's healthy enough to be taken home."

"Yay!" Melanie cheered, punching her fists into the air. "Ohh, I can't wait to take this little guy home," she cooed, scratching behind the puppy's ears. She looked up when she heard the bell rang and smiled when Scott came rushing in. "Scott! Scott! Guess what? I can take the puppy home!" she said excitedly, pointing to Nova as if he couldn't see the little dog. Nova's head turned to the side as he stared at Scott but then broke his gaze to turn and lick at his paw.

"Oh – that's great, Mel!" Scott said with a smile. "Have you thought of a name for him?"

"Hmm…" Melanie tapped her chin as she looked the puppy up and down. He tilted his head back and stared at her with his big brown eyes. "Nova!" she announced, snapping her fingers. "That's your name, isn't it Nova? Yes it is!" Standing straight, she turned to Scott to ask him a question but then noticed the stunned expression on his face. Whirling around she noticed a police officer standing at the door.

"Hey! I see somebody's ready to get their stitches out," Dr. Deaton said to the large german shepherd that ambled through the door. Melanie scooped Nova off of the table as his tail began to wag at the bigger version of himself.

"Hey there Scott, you stain' out of trouble?" Sheriff Stiinski greeted him as he removed his sunglasses.

"Yeah," Scott replied shortly.

"Hi Mr. Stilinski," Melanie greeted him. "Look at my new dog! His name's Nova! Say hi, Nova." Melanie lifted his paw and waved it at the sheriff.

"Hello, Melanie," he said with a chuckle. "Hello to you too, Nova."

"What happened with that one?" Melanie asked, nodding to the german shepherd on the table.

"Oh, he just needed some stitches to help heal a little bite, he'll be fine," Sheriff Stilinski replied. Then he turned his attention to Dr. Deaton. "Hey, while I'm here, you mind taking a look at those pictures I was telling you about? Sacramento can't determine an animal."

Backing away from the table and closer to Scott, Melanie exchanged a look with him. What kind of pictures could they be talking about?

"This was the guy who was attacked on the bus?" Dr. Deaton asked, causing both their eyes to widen.

"Yeah, and there were wolf hairs found on Laura Hale's body."

"A wolf?" Scott asked. When Sheriff Stilinski looked at him he continued, "Um, I read somewhere that wolves haven't been in California for sixty years."

"Wolves are highly migratory," Dr. Deaton replied, still looking at the pictures. "They could have wandered in from a bordering state." He lifted his eyes to Sheriff Stilinski and pointed at a picture of the attacked man's face. Melanie couldn't resist the urge to step closer and see. "See these scratches here? They're claw marks. A wolf would have gone for the throat."

"So, what do you think, it's a mountain lion?" Sheriff Stilinski asked.

"I don't know," Dr. Deaton replied. "A wolf could chase its prey. Hobbling it by tearing at the ankles…and then the throat."

**# # #**

"Welcome to your new home, little guy!" Melanie cheered as she shut her car off in her driveway. Nova looked up at her from the small bed he was sitting on in the passenger seat. On the floor sat his new leash, bowls, collar, and a bag of dog food. "Don't worry; Mom may seem to not like you but she'll fall in love with your face as I did."

She got out of the car and scooped Nova into her arms. Maybe if she walked in with just him they wouldn't be upset that she chose to keep the dog without asking them. No one could turn away that face! Taking a deep breath, she exited the truck and went up to her house, a white Victorian style with a smattering of French windows. The lights on inside cast a golden glow on her yard and she could see her mom and dad talking in the breakfast nook. Her fast moving steps slowed as she got close enough to read the expressions on their faces and then she stopped and sighed. Their faces appeared tense and tight. They had obviously been arguing about something or were in the middle of it.

"Well, this will stop all the fighting," she declared, kissing the top of Nova's head. She marched up the front stairs, stepped past the wraparound porch and walked into her home. She closed the door with her foot behind her and called out a greeting. The hushed whispers that floated from the nook stopped and were replaced by footsteps. "Surprise!" she cried out once her parents turned the corner. "This is Nova!"

"Melanie," Arabella said, stopping short. "Where did you get that?"

"Remember, I found him about a week and a half ago. Or was it two weeks?" she shrugged. "Doesn't matter. Anyway! No one claimed him so now he's ours! Isn't that great?"

"I've always wanted a dog," Laurence said, stepping forward to take the dog out of Melanie's arms.

"Sweetie, you have to take it back," Arabella said, clasping her hands together. "We don't have time for a dog."

"Yeah we do!" she protested. "Some days you don't go into work until late. And I can take care of him before school and dad can come home on his break and I can take care of him after lacrosse!" She stuck out her lower lip. "Please?"

"Melanie," Arabella sighed, rubbing her forehead. "We can't."

"C'mon, Bell," Laurence said, taking Nova out of Melanie's arms and held it up to his wife's face. "Look at him!" Nova stuck out his small tongue and licked her nose.

"We do not. Have time. For a dog," she said sternly, looking Laurence in the eye.

"You always said that I could take on more responsibilities around the house," Melanie jumped in. "And this is the biggest one. Please, Mom, please? I've always wanted a dog! Please!" She dropped to her knees and grabbed Arabella's arm. "I'm _begging_ you!"

"Melanie, get off the floor," Arabella ordered. Melanie jumped to her feet and tucked her hair behind her ear. "We'll talk about this later. For now, let's eat," she said. She shot Laurence a look and turned on her heel.

Once she disappeared around the corner Melanie and Laurence high-fived. "Don't worry; I'll work on her," he said.

"Hey, Dad, wait," Melanie said, grabbing his arm. "What were you two fighting about earlier? I saw you through the window."

"It's nothing, Hummingbird," he replied, kissing her forehead. "We just got into a little disagreement. Nothing to worry about." He set Nova down on the ground and he immediately started to sniff around the house. "Where's the rest of his stuff?"

"Stuff? What stuff? He has stuff?" Melanie asked with a nervous laugh.

Laurence gave her a look. "In the truck, right?"

"Right," Melanie conceded.

"Go help your mother with dinner; I'll get the rest of the supplies."

Melanie patted Nova on the head and went into the kitchen to help her mother carry dishes to the table. Arabella was muttering something under her breath but brushed Melanie off when she asked about it. She dropped the subject and carried silverware over to the table.

* * *

><p><em><strong>an**_ - And here's the next chapter! It's a nice long one for you guys. What did you think? For the whispering part, in the show I understand they have to talk loud enough for the boom mics to pick up their "whispered conversations" but I always wondered how no one else overheard their conversations. Thus, I decided to poke fun at it. What do you think about the woman coming into the shop, who do you think it is? Also, to explain the chapter title, "strange bedfellows" is an idiom meaning two groups of people who normally wouldn't be seen together are connected by a certain activity. In this case, Lydia and Jackson sitting with Scott and Stiles. Thanks for the reviews and favs and alerts! Please leave a review.


	8. Wolfsbane of My Existence

**Chapter 8: Wolfsbane of My Existence**

The week went by at a sluggish pace with hardly any news about the mountain lion attack, save for the bus driver dying. That put a damper on a few days of school but things went back to normal after the days passed. The curfew enforced by the police department was enforced then more than ever, to the teens' chagrin but they dealt with it and moved on with their lives as best as they could. Melanie, however, couldn't move on.

Between looking for more wolf facts and werewolf information she had an increase in intensity with lacrosse practice to deal with, Erica still being upset over Stiles's infatuation with Lydia, a new puppy to potty train, parents that seemed on constant edge with one another, that _stupid_ picture that was still going in circulation and the fact that Isaac was hiding something from her. She hadn't expected him to tell her outright what was going on even while she had suspicions but she felt they were on their way to being friends so that had to count for something, right?

She waved at him in the halls and stopped to chat whenever she had a second. Half of their French classes were spent working on their project and the other half was spent talking about lacrosse or the goings on around school or a bit about their families. Hell, he even started waiting for her to leave the locker room so they could walk to the field together. So why didn't he trust her? Not that she was only into their tentative friendship _for_ the trust to get information out of him but it was beginning to get frustrating.

Added atop of that frustration was that Scott and Stiles were _still_ acting funny. They were having more whispered conversations in the middle of the school than normal. They lurked around corners and appeared jumpy. Scott even had a few outbursts in classes that he never had before, almost as if his patience was being tested or that something was bothering him. Melanie was sure, she was _sure_ she knew why but the more she thought about it the more she knew she didn't have anyone to talk to about her suspicions that wouldn't think she was crazy. Erica already didn't want to hear about it and if she tried her parents? They would probably send her to get her head examined. No that she blamed them.

It did sound crazy. Werewolves running around beneath people's noses, attacking people in the middle of the night, causing mass hysteria and a curfew to come into effect and pt stress on everyone's heads. That was ridiculous. But then the idea of a werewolf being on the lacrosse team and helping them kick off their newest season. That was even _more_ ridiculous but to Melanie there was no other logical explanation. And that was it, in a nutshell. None of this was logical. But maybe sometimes logic just couldn't be used in some instances in life and maybe this was one of them.

But that didn't mean that reason couldn't come into play. Just like there had to be a _reason_ that the leather jacket wearing boy that Melanie had seen a few times before was slowly making his way through the hall. She had to blink rapidly to be sure that she wasn't seeing things but with each blink he didn't disappear. What in the world was he doing at _school_? In the middle of the day? Looking like _death_?

She ducked behind a wall nearby and watched as he slowly approached Jackson. His pale, gaunt skin looked worse beneath the fluorescent lights of the school. Not that did any favors for the rest of them but he looked worse.

She squinted, trying to read their lips but it was hard, especially with Jackson's natural body movements as he spoke. She could only imagine he was making fun of the leather-bound boy. He said something for him to walk away but Jackson grabbed onto him, only for the boy to slam him up against his locker. At first Melanie felt a swell of pride for someone was _finally_ able to put him in his place but that was quickly replaced with sympathy for him. Even someone as evil as Jackson didn't deserve that shit.

Melanie's eyes widened briefly and she ducked behind the wall when he turned around. She held her breath, doing her best to stay silent as her mind raced, wondering how in the _world_ someone could just easily walk into the school like that. Didn't they have security or something around the school to prevent that? She made a mental note to check up on it later because it obviously wasn't working now. So what was she supposed to do? Go running to the principal about how there was someone in the school who she was sure had malicious intent without proof? Fat chance. Even she wasn't stupid enough to go after him without proof.

So she waited. She went through her day as best as she could, trying to act as normal as she could although she waited and expected for something to happen or for the guy to barge right into her class and…well, she hadn't gotten that far with the thought. He could do anything since he was in school already and, apparently, looking for Scott. She went through her classes, she studied with Erica, she worked on her project with Isaac, she ate lunch with Scott and Stiles (Erica was now avoiding anything Stiles related, which included eating in the lunchroom), and she even spent some time talking with Allison about their mutual love of Arcade Fire and running.

It wasn't until the last bell ring of the day that jump started everything. She had almost forgotten all about the strange guy in the halls by the time the day was over. Since they didn't have lacrosse that day she was ready to go straight home and play with her new puppy. Erica was going to come over later, she had a consultation to see if there was any way she could combat the weight gain due to her medicine.

"So Scott's studying with Allison today?" Melanie asked as she walked with Stiles through the hall of the school towards the exit. They had managed to park next to each other that morning so they decided to walk out to their cars together.

"If he's going to do anything interesting in his life that I can live through, he won't be studying with her," Stiles replied.

"Why? What else would he be doing?" she asked.

He stopped walking and she almost ran into him. "Are you kidding me?"

"Nooooo…?" she stretched out.

"What do you do when you're studying?"

Her eyes swiveled in their sockets as she thought. "Er…I study," she replied. "Well, I _try_. It doesn't usually work out."

"That's–no! That's _not_ what's going to be happening today!" Stiles replied, holding up his finger. "Something is going to happen! Something is _going_ to happen! I need a good story to live off of."

Melanie snorted. "I think you need a cold shower, that's what you need," she said, pushing open the door with her back. "Like, a lifetime of it."

"I probably do, not gonna lie. It'd be a better one if someone joined me."

"Oh my god, you need to stop!"

The two laughed as they went their separate ways, Stiles to his blue jeep and Melanie to her red truck. She got in and buckled herself in and waited for Stiles to back out of his space so she could fall in behind him. They had barely moved forward in the line when Stiles slammed on his brakes causing a backup. Melanie's hand hovered over her own horn when her peering through her windshield and then through his made her pause.

It was him! It was the guy! He had stepped out in front of Stiles's jeep, causing the backup. Was he trying to get Stiles in an accident? Her mind raced with possibilities as to why he was there while the rest of her body moved on autopilot. And apparently autopilot was throwing her car in park, grabbing her lacrosse stick, and rushing towards the guy who was now surrounded by Scott and Stiles Which, she thought once her brain finally caught up with her, wasn't too smart if he had a gun on him.

"Help me put him in your car," Scott was saying when Melanie rushed over.

"Stiles, did you hit him?" Melanie asked, clutching her lacrosse stick in his hands.

Stiles whirled around; his mouth gaped like a fish. His eyes bounced around as he tried to think of something to say. "No! He just ate some…bad sushi. Real bad food poisoning," he replied.

"Cut the crap," Melanie ordered. She used her stick to point at the guy on the ground. "He's been following you around for ages, hasn't he? He was– he was at Lydia's party! He was at a lacrosse practice one time! He was even at our last game! What is he, some sort of pedophile?"

The sick boy managed to glare at her at her question and she visibly flinched as Scott dragged him over to the passenger side of Stiles's car.

"No, Mel, he's not, we know him," Stiles replied, running a hand over his hair while backing away from her. Her hands tightened on the shaft of her crosse. She hated it when they did that. She was just so tired of it. "It's just complicated, okay? But we got it under control—"

Melanie stepped towards him. "You think you can control a werewolf?" she blurted out, making Stiles stop in his tracks amidst the honking of the horns. Now he _really_ looked like a fish gasping for air.

"Wh-what are you—?" his question was cut off when she pressed the handle of her lacrosse stick against his neck and shoved him against the door to his car.

"Don't try to smooth talk your way out of this, Stilinski. You may be as slick as butter when you need to be but not about this." Dropping her voice she said, "I think I know what's going on. And if I'm right…I can help you."

"Mel, you don't want to get involved."

She held his gaze and then motioned to her stick. "I kind of already am, aren't I?" More honks shot out around them.

"This isn't like you thinking Mr. Harris is a vampire."

"I know." Despite her heart hammering in her chest she managed to crack a smile. "This is real." She released him and dropped her stick to her side.

"…_Fine!_ Just…get in your car and follow me. And don't! Say! Anything!"

"Aye aye, captain!" Melanie saluted him and backed away so Stiles could get into his jeep. She jogged over to her truck, threw her lacrosse stick into the back, and then got into the driver's seat, managing to get buckled up at light speed to follow Stiles out of the congested parking lot. Her hands shook against the steering wheel and she had to take a few deep breaths to calm down her nerves. She had gotten herself into shit before but this one had to take the cake.

She followed Stiles closely as they drove down the road. The silence in her car had gotten to her and she needed something to drown out her heavy beating heart. She tried tapping her thumbs against the steering wheel but that didn't help. She tried the radio but after a long string of commercials she switched to a CD. But then _that_ didn't work, she couldn't get lost in the music as she usually did, so silence became her companion. But it made her even more restless. She couldn't stand silence. It made her antsy; she had to fill it somehow.

Her silent torture was given a reprieve when Stiles pulled over to the side of the road. She pulled in behind him and squinted, waiting to see if something was wrong. Stiles seemed to be waving his arms around and she slumped in her seat. They were having an argument. Great. She began to count cars as she waited for them to get going again, reaching twenty-seven that had passed as she sat there. Whatever argument Stiles and the guy seemed to be having finally ended when the lights appeared on the back of his car and they rolled forward. Melanie pressed her foot against the brakes to take the car out of park and followed close behind them once more.

After a while they pulled over again and Melanie left her car to figure out what was going on. Stiles reported that he didn't have a place to take Derek so they were stuck for a while. Hearing that, Melanie made sure her car was locked, her personal belongings were secure, grabbed her lacrosse stick—"just incase!" she said when Stiles gave her a peculiar look—and jumped into the backseat.

Minutes turned to an hour. The sun had begun to set as they waited for any word from Scott. Stiles texted him a few times and got no answer, which only seemed to frustrate him more than he already was.

"Is he still studying with Allison?" Melanie asked, leaning between the seats.

"Put finger quotes around the word studying, but yes," Stiles replied, rubbing his forehead. "He's going to try and find whatever kind of bullet it was that he was shot with." He jerked his thumb over to the guy—who she finally learned was called Derek Hale—who was resting with his head against the window.

"Oh. Well, that's gonna take a while," she stated.

"No shit."

"Why…is she here?" Derek breathed.

"Because she has an overly large nose," Stiles replied.

Melanie stuck her tongue out at him. "For the record it's cute as a button," she told him. She then turned to Derek. "Also because Thing 1 and Thing 2 have a _horrible_ time at whispering and they were being freakishly weird for weeks. They can't cover tracks so I just put two and two together to figure out what was going on. It also helps that I'm a walking talking Supernatural encyclopedia."

"Wait, how did _you_ find out but Jackson is still in last place over this whole thing?" Stiles asked, turning around.

"Because it's _Jackson_." Melanie rolled her eyes. "That should tell you something. Have you ever seen him in the library? He's not dumb but he's not entirely logical." She paused. "Y'know, that explains why he is super obsessed with Scott. Like, Harry Potter, Draco Malfoy level of creepy. Circa _Half-Blood Prince_."

Stiles didn't acknowledge her comment. Instead he picked up his phone and dialed Scott's number. She noticed he jabbed his thumbs against the screen. He was clearly agitated. Melanie pressed her lips together and rested her arms on the backs of their seats as she waited for Scott to answer.

"What am I supposed to do with him?" Stiles demanded once Scott picked up the phone. "And by the way he's starting to smell." There was a pause in the conversation and Derek slowly shifted his head to glare at Stiles. Leaning forward, Melanie stuck her nose by his armpit and sniffed, nodding her head in confirmation. She shrunk when Derek glared at her as well. "Like death!" Scott's muffled voice was heard on the line, prompting Stiles to ask about his boss which clicked in Melanie's mind that they were going to the animal shelter. She had to bury her face in her arms to keep from laughing out loud. A werewolf in an animal shelter. Things were just writing themselves!

"Alpha?" Melanie repeated, sitting higher up in her seat. "Like…alpha, beta, gamma, delta?"

"Yeah. Only the alpha is a raging werewolf that bit Scott so now he's part of his pack," Stiles sighed, rubbing his eyes.

"Gimme that," Melanie said, snatching the phone out of Derek's hand. "Scott! You're part of someone's pack?"

"Wha—Mel? What are you doing there?"

"We don't have time for this, McCall. Stiles will fill you in later. What's this I hear about an Alpha wanting you to kill people?" She paused and then gasped. "So _that's_ what you two were talking about with the rabbit in Chemistry!"

Derek pulled the phone out of her hand and growled, "Find that bullet!" before hanging up the phone.

"Didn't have to be so rude," Melanie grumbled. Derek rolled his eyes. "Okay, you two get going. I'll get my car and follow you."

"Why don't we just take you?" Stiles asked.

"I don't want to leave my car sitting on the side of the road."

"It's a hunk of junk! People are going to think it broke down…rightfully so." She smacked him on the back of the head. It may be a hunk of junk but it was _her_ hunk of junk and she was proud of it. But he did have a point so she sat back and got comfortable as he started up the car again.

**# # #**

Stiles found the key where Scott had told him it was left and he unlocked and opened the door as Melanie tried to help Derek inside but it was hard due to him not wanting to be touched and her being so short compared to him he couldn't rest his weight on her. But she tried so it was a win in her books. Stiles turned on the light and Derek collapsed against a pile of dog food bags. Barking dogs could be heard in the distance. A ding sounded and Stiles reached into his pocket to check his phone.

"Does Nordic blue monkshood mean anything to you?" Stiles asked.

"It's a rare form of wolfsbane," Derek and Melanie replied in unison, although Melanie spoke with massive amounts of 'duh!' dripping off her words.

"He has to bring me the bullet," Derek continued.

"Why?" Stiles asked.

"Because I'm going to die without it."

"Who would have a wolfsbane bullet?" Melanie asked, shoving her hands into her pockets.

"A hunter," Stiles replied. Melanie made a face. "A _werewolf_ hunt—"

"That's not what I meant," she interrupted him. "I mean…you can't handle wolfsbane without proper precautionary measures. The toxins can soak through the skin. Don't even _think_ about ingesting it. Which means it had to be handled by someone who knew what they were doing but…" her words slowly trailed off and her face morphed into an expression of absolute horror.

"What? What is it?" Stiles demanded.

"Flowerworks," Melanie whispered.

"What? Your flower shop?"

"Yeah. " She licked her lips and gulped. "Last Sunday…a woman came in…asking if we carried any wolsbane, which is stupid because of how poisonous it is. I mean, why would you make a bouquet just to kill someone with it? I mean, I guess if you had a _grudge_— "

Stiles grabbed her shoulders. "Mels! Focus!"

"Right, sorry! Anyway, a lady came in asking if we had it. And I told her no and I told her _why_—it being poisonous and all—and I mentioned the toxins and side-effects and stuff." She slowly shook her head. "I didn't…I never thought…"

"What, so…so someone made a bullet _out of_ wolfsbane?" Stiles demanded.

Melanie slowly nodded. "Or…or soaked one in its toxins, yeah." They turned their heads to look at Derek who was staring hard back at them. "That's…that's not food poisoning," she muttered. Stiles let go of her and hurriedly sent a text on his phone as Melanie approached Derek. His heavy eyebrows were lowered as he watched her getting closer. She knelt by his side and lightly touched his arm. He jerked it away, of course. "I'm sorry, I didn't know. I thought it was just a random question."

Derek didn't reply. Not that she thought he would. He was getting worse by the minute. All color seemed to have drained from his face. She knew for humans wolfsbane could kill fast but he seemed to be more resilient. The werewolf powers had to come into play. As concerned as she was she couldn't help but be extremely fascinated with him.

"Let's get him inside," she said as she stood. "It wouldn't help us if we all got arrested while he's dying."

"Yeah, alright," Stiles replied. They both grabbed one of Derek's arms and pulled him to his feet. Shuffling beneath his weight, they entered the animal clinic through a back and took him into an operating room. Stiles turned on a light once they entered the room. Derek pulled away from them and tugged off his shirt.

"Whoa," Melanie uttered, staring at his bare upper body. It was impressive, even if he did have weird black lines running up his arm and his skin was as pale as paper. She couldn't help but stare.

"Mel," Stiles admonished, slapping her on the arm.

"Sorry," she said, turning her eyes away, biting down on her lip to keep from smiling. She didn't need Stiles making fun of her and it was in bad taste to stare at the physique of someone dying.

"If the infection reaches my heart it'll kill me," Derek relayed before moving around the room to find something.

"Positivity just isn't in your vocabulary, is it?" Stiles asked. Now it was Melanie who slapped his arm. If her ogling wasn't going to help matters his sarcasm wasn't either.

"If he doesn't get here with the bullet in time…last resort," Derek replied.

"Which is?" Stiles asked.

Derek didn't reply right away. He opened a cabinet door and then knelt to picks something up. Melanie's head tilted at the large tattoo in the center of his back, three connected spirals. But then her eyes widened when he whirled around with a blade.

"You're gonna cut off my arm," he replied.

Melanie made a face. "That's…kinda…drastic," she pointed out. Derek ignored her as he grabbed a piece of blue stretchy plastic and held it in his mouth.

"What if you bleed to death?" Stiles demanded.

"It'll heal if it works," Derek said as he tied the blue plastic around his arm.

"I don't know if I can do this."

"Why not?"

"Well, because of the cutting through the flesh, the sawing of the bone, and especially the _blood_."

Derek dropped his arm and glared at Stiles.

"He's a bit squeamish with that sort of thing," Melanie explained.

"You faint at the sight of blood?" Derek asked incredulously.

"No, but I might at the sight of a chopped off arm!" Stiles replied.

Derek, clearly frustrated at the point, threatened for Stiles to cut off his arm unless he wanted his head chopped off. He grabbed Stiles by the collar of his jacket which made him change his mind real fast. Despite the tense situation Melanie giggled at his changing tune but stopped when Derek puked…black blood?

"Sick!" she cried out, watching it splatter against the ground.

Derek relayed that it was his body trying to heal. Melanie's guess was that his organs were starting to shut down, either way they didn't have much time left so Derek ordered Stiles to saw off his arm. Melanie covered her eyes. She didn't want to watch the blood bath. Her muscles tensed when she heard Stiles pick up the handsaw and the blade start to whirl. Any second she would hear it ripping through flesh and—

"Stiles?" Scott's voice called out. The whirring of the blade stopped and Melanie removed her hands from her eyes.

"Scott?" Stiles repeated.

Scott burst into the room and, rightfully so, freaked out at the sight of Stiles holding the saw against Derek's arm. Stiles let go of the saw and laughed in relief. Scott then dug into his pocket and pulled out the wolfsbane bullet, handing it over to Derek. But before he could do whatever it was he was going to do with it, he fell over, dropping the bullet. It rolled and fell down a small grate on the floor. Scott rushed for it while Stiles and Melanie began shaking Derek to get him to wake up.

"Come on, get up," Melanie muttered, shaking Derek's head from side to side but nothing happened.

"Please don't kill me for this," Stiles muttered and then punched Derek's cheek. It got him to wake up but Stiles recoiled as he held his aching hand.

"I could have told you that wouldn't work," Melanie said as they helped Derek to his feet.

"Why didn't you stop me then?" Stiles demanded.

Melanie shrugged. "People have to learn from their mistakes, right? Even the stupid ones."

Derek got to his feet and moved over to the table. He bit the top off the bullet in an amazing show of strength and dumped the gunpowder on the table. He lit it with a lighter and, once it burned off, dumped the powder onto his wound. But that wasn't the end of it. He then proceeded to stick his finger in the wound. His scream caused Melanie to start screaming, more out of shock at what she was seeing rather than sympathy pain.

Derek fell to the floor, writhing in pain as he continued to scream, a wolf-like growl rumbled in his chest at one point. They watched in awe as blue smoke lifted from the wound and his skin reverted back to normal before their eyes. The bullet and the bullet wound disappeared.

"That was…_awesome!_" Stiles cried out. Melanie nodded her head. She couldn't have said it better herself.

"Okay, we saved your life. Now you can leave us alone," Scott said firmly. "And if you don't I'm going back to Allison's Dad and tell him everything—"

"Allison's Dad?" Melanie repeated.

"He's a hunter, long story," Stiles said with a wave of her hand.

"I knew I didn't like her," Melanie said, snapping her fingers. "I mean, her Dad's kinda hot but…" she stopped talking at the incredulous look on Stiles's face.

"You're gonna trust them?" Derek demanded. "You think they can help you?"

"Why not?" Scott asked.

"Probably because they want to kill you," Melanie cut in. When they all turned to look at her she held up her hands and mimed locked her lips together.

"C'mon, Mel, I'll drive you back to your car," Stiles said. She nodded and followed him out, glancing over her shoulder to look at Scott. Sighing, she turned back around and walked out of the room. "Well…welcome to the wonderful world of werewolves," he joked as he threw an arm around her shoulders.

She managed a laughed. "Try saying that five times fast."

**# # #**

It was late by the time Melanie got home that night. Her mind still hadn't caught up to what exactly she had just witnessed and it didn't have time to process it either for as soon as she stepped through the front door of her home her ears were assaulted with the noise of her parents yelling at one another. Again.

"This isn't my fault, Bell!" Laurence yelled.

"_You're_ the one who gave her that truck in the first place! I should have never let you do it!" Arabella yelled back.

"I had it all checked out before I gave it to her. If it weren't drivable I wouldn't have given it to her!"

"Well that's easy to say but she's still missing!"

"No, I'm not, I'm right here," Melanie replied, entering the kitchen. She had barely set her backpack down when Arabella ran forward and hugged her but she wasn't too happy with her parents at the moment to hug them back. She was supposedly missing and the only thing they do is fight with one another instead of look for her? "My car ran out of gas and I walked to find a place nearby. Went back, called a tow truck, went _back_ to the station got gas, and came here." As soon as the lie came out of her mouth she noticed the holes in her story but she hoped her parents didn't catch them.

"How come you didn't call anyone?" Laurence demanded.

"I have no phone!" Melanie replied. She grabbed her backpack. "Now, if you'll excuse me I want to take a bath and get some sleep. It's been a long day."

"Erica came by but then she left. She wants you to call her," Arabella relayed.

"Okay, I will once I get upstairs."

"No, now." Melanie turned, about to ask what her mother's impatience was for and then she saw the brand new cell phone sitting in her hand. "We were going to surprise you with it today but…" her voice trailed off and a wavering smile appeared on her face. "Anyway, we hope you like it. Your contacts and everything has been backed up."

"Great, thanks!" Melanie took the phone, bent over to scoop up Nova who had been biting at her shoelace and ran upstairs. She fired off a quick text to Erica—_Got a new phone! Sorry I wasn't around, had car trouble. See you tomorrow?_—dropped her things off in her room and went to the bathroom to soak as many of her troubles away as she possibly could. Though the trouble of her parents arguing seemed to be one that was going to stay for good.

* * *

><p><em>an_ - And we have made it to the good part! Now Melanie is in on all the werewolf secrets going around. Or is she? Thanks so much for the reviews and favs and alerts everything. I'm happy to see that you all are enjoying this story. I made a new cover image for the story, please let me know what you think. From here on out the events in the show will be displayed but also new events will be added in. Am I the only one who was surprised they didn't take advantage of a Valentine's Day ep if the first season was set in Feburary? Well, I'm gonna fix that in this fic! There will also be some deviations coming up as well, mainly stretching time between event sequences. You'll see later on. Also, there's more Melisaac goodness in the future as well as her interacting more with Allison, Lydia, Jackson, and even Danny. Please leave a review! Enjoy!


	9. You Aint Lion

**Chapter 9: You Aint Lion  
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The weekend started off with a bang, and not the good kind. Not only did Melanie have to deal with a puppy that was going potty all over the house but on Saturday night reports got out that a man at a local video store had been killed and that Jackson and Lydia had been witnesses to the event. People were still throwing around that it was a mountain lion but through a text conversation with Stiles she learned that it was most likely the Alpha, a werewolf that was trying hard to make Scott a part of his pack.

The constant texting didn't go unnoticed by Erica who had come over to play with her dog and Melanie had to lie and claim that she was getting information about Stiles for her. As much as she claimed she as over Stiles she knew it wasn't true. She still perked up at the sound of his name. It made Melanie sad, seeing her friend stuck in an unrequited love chain. But what else was she going to do but stoke Erica's interest? She couldn't just come out and say she was right about werewolves being in existence. It was one thing that she barged into Scott's new life but it would be another if she just told other people.

Besides, she was still trying to shake the dream she had last night. Well, it wasn't exactly a dream but it wasn't a nightmare either. She was running away from something with red glowing eyes that was constantly chasing her. She found herself atop of the video store, standing at the ledge when the creature cornered her. But then large, black wings popped out of her back and she dive-bombed towards the ground. The monster fell after her and slashed at her back, ripping her wings out in the process and sent her hurtling towards the concrete. She woke up in a cold sweat right before she smacked into the ground with an aching back. She had taken some pain killers and tried to go back to sleep but it stuck in her mind like seeing an older person in a thong.

It was one time she was thankful that school was starting up again so she had something else to put her mind on. That and the conferences that were to be held that Monday night. She was going to have to sit through four of them: History, Chemistry, Algebra, and Economics. Her parents were _not_ going to be happy.

"Why couldn't you have made your existence known earlier so you could save me from having to attend?" Melanie asked Isaac as she lobbed a lacrosse ball at him. She had a free period and wanted to get a little bit of practice in. Erica wasn't in the mood to stand around outside in the cold so she dragged Isaac out with her. "You could have tutored me in my classes. Lord knows Erica tries but we've learned a long time ago that it will only end with us wanting to kill one another."

"I wouldn't have helped you in Chemistry, my grade in that class is tanking too," he replied. "My dad's gonna flip." He cradled the lacrosse ball in his stick a few times before tossing it back.

"Your grade can't be that bad," Melanie said, catching the ball.

"It's a D."

"Ouch."

"Yeah."

She threw the ball back. "Well, mine's a C- so we can be flunking buddies." He snorted and caught the ball. "It's a bit weird, though. We have a curfew but they still want us to have conferences? They should just…cancel it all and let us go on with our lives."

"I can only hope," he replied, tossing the ball back. "The whole thing's kinda crazy, isn't it?" he asked, holding the stick in his hands. "Never had something like this happen before."

"There's a first time for everything, right?" she replied, cradling the ball. She licked her lips and before she could stop herself she asked, "But what if it was something else?" She watched as his eyebrows lifted. "Not a mountain lion but something else. Like, say…a wolf?"

Isaac's nose wrinkled. "Wolves aren't from here," he stated.

"What if they migrated?"

"I guess that's possible but I doubt they'd adapt to the kind of weather and conditions we have here."

Melanie hummed and nodded, tossing the ball back. "Well, whatever it is I hope they get it soon." But her words felt hollow. She had an idea of what it was ad she was still a sitting duck about it. What could she, a normal human, do against an Alpha? Scott and Derek were the only ones who could actually do something but that was if the Alpha didn't get control of Scott. Not that they could ask him about it since he was missing that day. Coincidentally Allison was too, which only meant they were together all because it was Allison's birthday.

Melanie had noticed the new necklace hanging around Allison's neck as they arrived at their lockers that morning. She admired it and had said how interesting she thought it was while Allison smiled modestly. It only prompted Melanie to ask what the occasion was and once she was able to deduce that it was Allison's birthday she wished her a happy one and that was that. But of course Scott wouldn't leave it alone. Not that she could blame him, really. If she found out that she could turn into a monster she'd want some resemblance of normalcy in her life too.

"Whatever it is doesn't stop my father from still having me work," Isaac commented, snapping Melanie out of her thoughts. She had to reach out to grab the ball that he threw. She didn't miss the bitterness in his voice.

"You work in a graveyard all by our lonesome? That's like asking to be attacked," she agreed. "By zombies, no less! Doesn't that ever worry you?"

"People coming back from the dead are the least of my worries," he replied.

"True. I suppose the things that people can do while they're alive is much worse."

"Trust me, it is."

"Still, be careful while you're working, alright? I don't want to wake up one morning and hear that a friend has been attacked."

Melanie finally threw the ball back as soon as her words left her tongue. Had she registered the stunned expression on his face she would have waited a few more seconds to throw the ball back but she didn't and it smacked him right in the face. Her eyes widened and she covered her mouth with her hands as Isaac recoiled. He grabbed at his face with a hand as the ball fell to the ground and rolled harmlessly away from him.

"Oh god! Isaac, I'm so sorry!" she cried out, running over to him. "Are you okay? Oh god, of course you're not! I just threw a lacrosse ball in your face! Here, let me see."

"No, no, I'm fine," he said while turning away from her, still holding his face. "I'm good."

"Let me see," she insisted, reaching out towards him but he brushed her away.

"Melanie, really, it's fine."

She stomped her foot on the grass and huffed. "Isaac! Let me _see_!" She stood on her tip toes, pushed his hand aside and grabbed his face in her hands. She felt his muscles tense beneath her hands but she still turned his head this way and that to see it beneath the sunlight. The skin around his left eye was red and puffy. She guessed the force of the hit would give him a black eye, easy. "I'm so sorry," she wailed, dropping her hands and clasped them together as she fretted. "Here, I'll take you to the nurse. She can get you some ice."

"No!" Isaac cried out, jerking away. Despite the skin around his eye beginning to swell his eyes widened. "No…I-I don't need to go to the nurse. I'm fine. Really. I…I need to go." He reached down, grabbed his backpack, and took off running.

"Issac! Wait!" Melanie yelled after him. "What's going on?" But he didn't respond he just kept running. She threw her arms into the air and growled in frustration. "Why do people keep doing that?" she asked no one in particular. She growled again, grabbed her own bag, and headed into the school. She barely made it inside when she collided with Jackson who had come out of a side hallway. "Oh, sorry," she sighed and then cringed. When why she apologizing when he was the one who walked into her? She was about to take it back when she noticed his face.

He was as pale as he was when he came in that morning, which she was surprised about. Lydia stayed home from school due to the trauma and yet he still came in. It seemed as if the longer the day went on the worse for wear he became. He looked as if he had seen a ghost. "Hey…are you okay?" she asked, lightly touching his arm.

Her touch seemed to snap him out of whatever it was that had a hold of him and he wrenched his arm away. "I'm fine," he grumbled. "Just peachy. Why do you care?"

"Because you look like you saw a dead body or—" she cut off her words as he glared at her and she remembered what actually happened. "Oh."

"_Oh_," Jackson repeated, sneering at her. "Nice, Crowe. Real nice. Don't you have to be annoying somewhere else?"

"Not until three," she replied. He snorted and rolled his eyes. "That was a _joke_, Jackson." She brushed her hair out of her eyes. "Look. We're teammates now, alright? I just think maybe things would be easier if we got along? Or at least were civil."

"Listen, asswipe. Mind your own fucking business, okay? I'm _fine_. Stop pretending like you suddenly care. Okay? You don't know anything." She pressed her lips together to keep herself from saying "wanna bet?" but that would only get her into more trouble than she was already in.

"Okay, fine, sorry for asking," she muttered, trying to move past him but he slammed his palm on the lockers by her head, cutting off her path.

"And another thing," he hissed, "us being teammates is a fluke at best—"

"You've _seen_ me play!" she protested.

He slammed his palm on the locker again. The metal clang bounced up and down the halls. "A fluke at _best_," he repeated, his hissing intensifying to the point that a little bit of spit hit her face but she didn't dare move to wipe it off. "You don't belong on my team. You never have. And I'm going to make sure others see that." He pushed her shoulder and then stalked off as the bell rang. Students came pouring out of classrooms and entered the quick congesting halls.

Rubbing her shoulder with a shaky hand, Melanie did her best to regain her composure. She spotted Stiles coming out of one of the classrooms and hurried to catch up to him. She heard the trailing end of his conversation with who she guessed was Scott due to his mannerisms.

"…Another random guy is dead and you have to do something about it!" he said. He waited a few seconds and replied, "Something!" He growled and made a face at his phone before dropping his arm. Scott must have hung up.

"Anything?" Melanie asked, lifting her bag higher on her shoulder.

"Nope. Scott's still off on his little adventure," Stiles replied, making finger quotes around the word adventure. "God! This is _not_ the time for him to go romantic boyfriend on us!"

Melanie licked her lips and asked hesitantly, "Stiles can you really—?"

"Blame him?" Stiles interrupted her. "Yes. Yes I can. Because while he's off…doing _whatever_ there's something out there attacking people and he's not even doing anything about it because he's…he's…" he made a noise to substitute a word that he couldn't come up with. "Okay, okay…there's gotta be something we can do in the meantime."

"Maybe we can go find Derek. See what he'd do?" Melanie suggested.

"Hey, whoa, no!" Stiles replied as if that was the dumbest idea in the world. "We're not going to Derek, alright? We can do this without him. We just…we just need an idea of what the thing actually was." He snapped his fingers. "Yeah, yeah, I'll go over to Lydia's after school and see how she's doing. See if she remembers what she saw and then we can meet up and talk it over."

"Wait," Melanie grabbed his arm to stop him from walking. She studied him. His eyebrows were furrowed, he rapidly licked his lower lip, and even though his eyes were trained on her it was as if he was looking past her. No, looking _through_ her. And she had seen that look plenty of times and it was only when he was thinking of one thing. Lydia. "Stiles, tell me the truth…are you going to see Lydia for information…or are you going to see her for personal pleasure?"

"I…I…Mels," he stammered, "…you know how I feel about her."

"Everyone in the goddamn world knows how you feel about her," she replied evenly. She paused and then added, "Except her. And I know how much you care about her, it's sweet in a way but just remember…she _has_ a boyfriend"—she didn't slow her words even though he flinched at the mention of Jackson—"and she's probably still shaken over what happened. So…I know she's vulnerable and all but don't…" she let her words trail off.

"Take advantage?" he filled in. she nodded. "I'd never do that to her," he said firmly. "Never. I just want to make sure she's okay."

Melanie clicked her tongue and watched him again. This time he looked right at her and she nodded. "Okay," she said quietly. "I believe you. Text me if you find anything and I'll be right over, alright?"

He smiled and ruffled her hair. "I will. See you later."

And, like everyone else, he ran away from her too.

**# # #**

"Mel, stop humming!" Erica cried out. Melanie looked up from her phone, dropping it on the floor when she missed the catch. The noise startled Nova awake. He looked around, stretched out on his new pillow, yawned, and curled up to sleep again. Erica was laying on her bed, staring at Melanie as she leaned over from her window seat and picked up her phone.

"Sorry, didn't realize," Melanie muttered, lifting her phone to see if the screen was cracked. Thankfully it wasn't. Her parents would kill her if she broke her phone just after getting it.

"What's gotten you so tense?" she asked, closing her Chemistry book and rolled off the bed. Melanie didn't get a chance to answer before Erica sat behind her on the window seat and began kneading her shoulders with her thumbs.

"Uh…conferences," Melanie replied, looking out the window and down the street. A little kid rode on the sidewalk on his bike as his father walked behind him. Erica's thumb pressed into a knot in her shoulder and she had to bite her lip to keep from groaning out loud. The last thing she wanted was for her parents to burst in and think something weird was going on. "Getting my parents in the same room to talk about how disappointed they are in my grades is not my idea of a good night. They'll probably fight about _that_ too."

"Why _are_ they fighting so much anyway?" Erica asked.

Melanie sighed. "I don't know. Any time they ask they tell me not to worry or they clam up when I walk in the room and put on these fake smiles that it makes me think they were replaced with Stepford wives." She glanced down at her phone again. Still no text from Stiles and no word from Scott. She looked out the window again. She wondered what Derek was up to…

She blinked and looked over her shoulder when she clued in that Erica had stopped moving. Tilting her head, blue eyes locked with brown. She lifted her eyebrows, silently probing Erica for an answer. As always, it worked. "It's just…," Erica started, "…they sound like my mom and dad before they got divorced."

Melanie's stomach dropped as the word landed heavy on her chest. _Divorce_. She had seen it tear apart families and leave broken shambles in their wake. The McCall family was one. Erica's family was another. And then there was Alice who moved away in sixth grade because of it and Paul and Randy who were split up because of their parents… _Divorce_? She couldn't even swallow the word, let alone think it. It couldn't be possible. Not for her mom and dad. They were crazy in love with one another, ever since they met. She hadn't sat through sickeningly sweet stories about them just for them to end up _divorced_.

"Hey," Erica said softly, grabbing Melanie's shoulder to keep her from standing. She wrapped her arms around Melanie's shoulders and kissed the top of her head. "That may not be it. It could be something else. Finances. Sick relative. Anything. Don't let me fill your head with worry."

But that wasn't why Melanie had started to get up. No, it was something worse. She saw the red eyes again, outside her window, in the bushes. _In broad daylight! _She had blinked rapidly to be sure she wasn't actually dreaming. She even pinched herself. But the eyes were still there.

"What's wrong?" Erica asked, sensing her change in demeanor.

"Nothing, nothing," Melanie replied. Just then the sound effect noise of a Pokéball opening. She had just gotten a text. Maybe it was finally Stiles.

"Man, you're so jumpy today," Erica commented, leaning backwards to keep Melanie from smacking her head into her chin as she tried to get up. "I'll get it. You need to relax. Have a Snickers or something."

"Wait, Erica, no! I can get it," Melanie said, trying to stop her but Erica used her longer legs to beat her to her phone. She cursed under her breath at the stupid idea of giving Erica her password. They kept no secrets from each other; of _course_ she'd share it but now was the one time she wished she _hadn't_. "Really, it's probably just my dad."

"Why would he text you from downstairs?" Erica asked, already typing in her pincode.

"Because he's…_werid!_" Melanie tried, in vain, to get her phone back but Erica had already gotten in. Melanie gulped when Erica froze. Her face scrunched up in confusion and she pulled the phone closer to her face. And then she saw something in Erica's demeanor crumble and it made an ache appear in her chest.

"Mel…?" she lifted her head and looked over at Melanie who flinched at the expression in her eyes. One that she had never seen since they were nine and fighting over which was better: Barbie or G.I. Joe. She held out Melanie's phone and she took it, glancing at the screen to see what the text said.

**Stiles: **_I need you NOW! Come as soon as you can!_

"Eri—" Melanie started but Erica cut her off.

"Is this why you've been acting weird?" she demanded. "Because you…you and Stiles…?"

"Me and Stiles…? No!" Melanie shook her head. "No, there's nothing…we're not…Erica, you have to believe me—"

"Do you like him?" Erica asked, her voice hitching.

"_No!_"

"You two have been texting a lot recently."

Melanie wanted to grab her hair. "We're just _friends_, Erica. We've always been friends. I've been asking him about you!"

Erica crossed her arms. "For some reason I don't believe you," she replied.

"I'm telling the truth!"

"Mel, you suck at lying!" Erica shot back. Any retort Melanie had died on the tip of her tongue. "I can always tell when you're lying to me. And you're lying right now. There's something going on between you two, isn't there? You know I like him!"

"You said you were over him," Melanie said feebly.

"Because I realize how pathetic it is to chase after him since he's so into Lydia," she spat. "I was trying to get over him with wishful thinking but you know how I felt. How could you do this to me?"

"Eri," Melanie tried, reaching out for her but she slapped her hand away.

"You're just like everyone else, feeding me lies. Do you really think I'm pretty? Or was that a lie too? And all those times you said I wasn't fat and that someone, some day, would want to be with me? Were those all lines too?"

"Of course not!" Melanie replied. "Eri, you're beautiful!" She could feel a prickling sensation behind her eyes. Tears began to rim the bottom lid. Erica's eyes appeared shiny as well. She too was trying to hold back her tears. "It's…it's a big misunderstanding."

"Okay then, what does Stiles need you for?" Erica demanded.

"I…" Melanie stopped herself. She clamped her lips together. She couldn't tell Erica why. As much as she wanted to, she just couldn't. It wasn't her secret to tell. It was Scott's. And Scott was forced to trust her since Melanie barged and shoved and elbowed her way into his…_hairy_ little problem. But he wouldn't trust her anymore if she told. But then Erica wouldn't trust her if she didn't either. "I…I can't…"

"I see," Erica said, all emotion leaving her voice. It was cold. It made Melanie shiver. She grabbed her bag off of Melanie's bed and stomped over to the door before Melanie could move. She wrenched it open and yanked it behind her. Melanie flinched when it closed with a loud slam.

A lump formed in her throat. She either had to go after Erica and try and talk her down or got to Stiles and help him out. She wiped the tears off of her face.

Talk about being between a rock and a hard place.

**# # #**

"What's goin' on? Did you find something?" Melanie asked, barging into Stiles' room. She stopped and her words softened on her tongue when she clued in on his pacing with his phone up to his ear. He held his finger out to her, signaling that he would be with her in a minute. She nodded and sat down on his bed, placing her backpack on the floor. She rubbed her hands on the knees of her jeans and looked around his gray room, taking in the posters on the wall and the cluttered state.

It was interesting to see into the being that was Stiles Stillinski. His locker seemed to be an extension of his room: a little cluttered, a little crazy, but interesting all rolled into one. She picked up a nearby Rubik's Cube, noticing that it had been completed, and moved the pieces around to try and figure it out herself. It gave her something to do while Stiles talked on the phone.

"Hey, it's me again…. Look, I found something out, I don't what to do, okay? So if you could turn your _phone on, right now_, that'd be great. Or else, I'll kill you! D'you understand me? I'm gonna kill you! …And I'm too upset to come up with a witty description about how exactly I'm gonna kill you but I'm just gonna do it, okay? I'm gonna…" Stiles finished his sentence with a growl of annoyance, bid Scott goodbye, and hung up his phone, throwing it down on the part of the bed that Melanie hadn't taken up.

"You may want to take up some yoga," Melanie commented, her eyes never leaving the puzzle in her hands, "it'll help you relax some."

"Yeah, well, I kinda can't relax knowing that there's an Alpha werewolf on the loose," Stiles grumbled, dropping down in his computer chair. He finally looked over at her and sat up straight, his eyes softening. "Whoa, wait…are you alright? Have you been crying?" Melanie looked up at him and then hastily wiped at her eyes. They still stung. "God, I don't know what to do crying girls. Do you, ah, want…some ice cream? Yeah! Ice cream always helps!"

"No, Stiles, I'm fine," Melanie said with a wave of her hand. "Got into a fight with a friend, that's all."

He grunted and slumped in his seat. "Yeah, I know the feeling." The knock at the door made him jump in his seat. Melanie glanced over to see Sheriff Stilinski in the doorway.

"Please tell me I'm going to hear good news at the conferences tonight," he sighed.

"Depends on how you define good news," Stiles challenged him.

"I define it as you getting straight As with no behavioral issues."

"Might want to rethink that definition," Stiles said slowly, making a face.

Melanie snorted to keep her laugh in which made her earn Sheriff Stilinski's attention. "Hey sir," she greeted him with a wave.

"Melanie, right?" he asked. "The one with the new dog?"

"Yep, that's me," she replied. "How's the pooch with the stitches?"

"He's doing fine." Sheriff Stilinski leaned in the doorway, crossing his arms over his chest. "What brings you over here?"

"Oh, ah, Stiles…Stiles here was going to help me study for…Chemistry!" Melanie replied, her eyes darting over to his textbook sitting on his desk. "Yeah we have Chemistry…together. The class! Not the, actual thing. I'm not into your son. …Not that he's not a great guy! He's just not my type! A little twitchy for me." She bit her tongue to keep from continuing her rambling and smiled at Sheriff Stilinski. _Man, I really _do_ suck at lying._

"Uh huh," he said slowly. "Just…keep the door open and don't do anything stupid," he directed at Stiles. Stiles spread his arms and widened his eyes as if offended by the notion. Sheriff Stilinski sighed, scratched his head, and walked away.

"…A little twitchy?" Stiles asked.

"Don't be offended. You're like a hyperactive chipmunk," Melanie replied. Stiles nodded his head, as if greeing with her comment. "So what did you find out?"

"Take a look at this," Stiles replied, picking up a phone and holding it out to her.

"Wha—_Stiles_! Did you steal Lydia's phone?" Melanie demanded, snatching it out of his hand. "That's beyond creepy."

"No, I don't take her phone you weirdo!" he replied, offended that she would even think that he would do such a thing. "I forwarded a video to _my_ phone."

"Oh." She paused. "You took a video—?"

"Will you just look at it?" Stiles leaned forward and jabbed the play button. Melanie leaned in so she could see the screen too, resting the side of her head against his. At first what appeared to be a shaky shot turned into something worse. Melanie gasped when she saw…_something_ burst out of the glass windows of the video store and come barreling past the screen. "Uh huh," Stiles muttered, pausing the video at the peak moment when the monster appeared on screen.

"No!" Melanie said, holding the phone closer to her face. "I-I saw this thing!"

Now Stiles was alert. "What? When? _Where?_"

"Outside my window," Melanie replied, now getting to her feet. She began to pace around the room. "I…I was sitting with Erica on my window seat and–and I looked out the window and I saw these…_eyes_! In the bushes. These red eyes were glowing!"

"They were in the _bushes_!?" Stiles repeated.

Melanie nodded. "But…I've seen then before that."

"Where?" Stiles grabbed her shoulders and shook her. "Where did you see them?"

"In my dreams!" Melanie replied. Stiles slowly deflated, wondering if he had indeed heard what she just told him. "I know it sounds crazy but—"

"A month ago if you told me I'd be chasing around a werewolf I would have thought you were crazy, but not now," he said evenly. "Tell me about your dreams. Don't leave out any detail."

She relayed every bit of information that she could remember, starting from how the first dream occurred when she was taking a bath and how vivid that one was. She didn't forget to mention the scales that appeared on her legs when she got out and then disappeared a second later. She then spoke about her most recent dream where she was attacked by what she now was sure was the alpha, about how it ripped wings out of her back and sent her plummeting towards her death and how she woke up with her back aching long since the dream faded away.

"That's…very…" Stiles rubbed his lips with his fingers as he tried to find the right word in his fast moving brain. He sighed and rubbed a hand over his short hair.

"Yeah, _very_," Melanie agreed when he didn't say anything. "The odd thing was that it felt so...real, in a sense. Like I knew what I was doing. I already knew how to swim with the fin and I already knew how to use my wings. Like it was part of muscle memory or something."

"Well, we can do things in our dreams we can't do while awake. Like…scale buildings or breathe underwater," Stiles said.

"Yeah but…I dreamed of the Alpha before I knew anything about him. What about that?"

She so badly wanted him to be able to explain that and he looked as if he was searching for an answer but he came up with nothing. Her shoulders dropped with her sigh. Figures. Precognitive dreams were one thing but this? It was just _too_ strange.

The silence that stretched on between them was broken by Stiles muttering about Scott beneath his breath. Her heart ached as she watched him send yet another text. How many was that today? It made her check her own phone to see if Erica responded to one of hers but her inbox was blank as well. It was a bad day for friends, it seemed.

Melanie lowered her phone and licked her lips, taking in Stiles' agitated state. "Can I ask you a question?" He lifted his eyebrows but didn't turn his angry gaze away from the window. That was fine with her; she wasn't sure how she would be able to handle it. "Why are you so angry? Is it that Scott won't answer you or is it that you feel like you're being replaced?" She held her breath after asking the question. It was loaded, she knew, but…it would explain a lot. Why, as far as she knew, he didn't try to get to know Allison. Surely if your best friend found someone the y really liked one would be happy for them but it seemed the longer Scott was interested in her the more agitated Stiles became.

He didn't respond right away. More silence stretched between them. He rubbed his mouth, he tapped his thumbs against one another, he ran his hands through his hair, and he huffed and puffed and changed his position in his chair. She picked up the Rubik's Cube again and tried to crack it, something to break the silence that was starting to strangle her.

"It's not fair." She didn't realize Stiles had spoken for a second, thinking that she had imagined it. He had his forehead propped up on his palm while messing with his phone. He parted his lips and continued speaking. "I've known him…all my life, basically. He's my best friend. _More_ than that he's…he's my brother, y'know? I'd do anything for him. _Anything_. And then…and then she comes along and it's like…"

"Like he has a new best friend?" Melanie filled in the unanswered blank for him.

"She's so great for him, that's…_god_, that's what bugs me. I've never seen him this happy. He likes her _so much_ and…I don't want to stop that but…" his words trailed off as he shook his head. "I don't know what I can do without him. I really don't. He's my only friend."

She ignored the sting at those words and released a breath through her nose. Setting the Rubik's Cube aside she got off the bed, crossed the room, slung an arm around his shoulders and perched herself atop of his knee. His head whipped around so fast she was surprised he didn't have whiplash let alone that his head was still connected with the rest of his body. "Listen," she said gently, "I'm sure you guys have fought before. And you always make up and are still friends, right? With all that's going on I think it's far he has some sort of normalcy before…everything messes up. Before everything gets worse. You don't have to agree but if you guys are friends as you say you are…you'll give him that. However, that doesn't mean I agree with him just…ignoring it all for Allison. Hell, he's acting like a lovesick teen girl if you ask me and it is annoying but…Scott's loyal as loyal can be. He'll come around." Pinching Stiles's cheek with her hand she added, "You're his first love, after all. Nothing can ever come between _that!_" Stiles laughed despite the tight expression remaining on his face. "And besides," she continued, "you do have other friends. You have me. And sweetie, I'm not going anywhere." She paused and then said, "Except for the conferences, but you get what I mean."

"Yeah," he said. "Thanks."

She kissed the side of his head and affectionately rubbed the base of his neck. "Anytime. So, will you be okay?"

"Yeah. I think I'm going to take a look at some of my dad's reports. Maybe there's something in there that we're missing. A clue or something."

"Good, do that. And if you need anything text me and I'll be right over."

She felt a stabbing sensation at those words. She used to always say them to Erica. She looked at her phone again. Still nothing. Was this it? One little misunderstanding and they weren't going to be friends anymore? She thought that Erica would be over it by now. Break down and call her so they can laugh and get past it and move on like nothing ever happened but she should have known it wouldn't be that easy. Life wouldn't make it that easy.

She swallowed the lump in her throat, forced a smile, and excused herself to get to the conference.

**# # #**

It felt odd being at school at night. The normal sounds and smells of the school day seemed to empty out with the student body once the bell rang for the day to be over. The stale scent of meat was overlapped by the potent scent of coffee provided for the parents coming in. Shouts and screams that plagued the hallway were replaced with hushed conversations behind closed doors. The students' safe haven was infiltrated and they were all on edge to hear what was to be said.

Melanie had sat through all her conferences and received the same feedback with the subject replaced in each situation—she had a hard time focusing, she tended to give up instead of work her way through the problems, she seemed far away or distracted in class, she was falling behind, and blah blah blah. Her parents sat through the whole thing, asking questions here and there but stayed relatively quiet. She wanted them to speak, to say something. Anything was better than silence. She even half expected them for them to come together and yell at _her_ for once. But that didn't happen. Instead they asked her to be excused and so she found herself sitting on a window ledge in the hall, listening to the rhythmic scratch of the hands of a nearby clock tick away while she waited.

She looked at her phone for the thousandth time that night. Still no response from Erica. She tapped her phone against her knee and kicked her legs out only to tap her heels against the wall over and over again. It became a steady beat which only reminded her of her parents discussing her algebra grades at the moment.

"Music is math," her dad always said whenever she brought back a bombed test. "I don't understand why you can ace music but not math."

Music _wasn't_ math, not to her. Music was raw. Music was taking everything that you could never put into words and put it into a song, into lyrics, into a rhythm and into a melody that, once together, became something so powerful that it made you _feel_.

Besides, music didn't have random numbers thrown in that she had to solve to get to an answer. Music had no answers. And that's why she loved it. It had no right or wrong. It just made you feel. So she took that idea and left a message on Erica's unanswered phone, playing "their song" to let her know how much not speaking was eating her up inside. The last time she felt that pain was when she was told that she wouldn't have a little brother after all the waiting.

Melanie looked at her phone screen again. Still no change. Nothing from Erica, nothing from Stiles, not even anything from Scott to at least them know he was okay. Sure he had werewolf powers and everything but there were hunters out there for crying out loud. He had to be more careful if he wanted to stay alive.

"Hey Isaac," she greeted him without turning her head. His shadow fell across her screen a moment later.

"How'd you know it was me?" he asked.

"Because I still think you're stalking me," she joked. She flashed him a smile and then continued, "Nah, you walk a certain way and I can smell you."

"You can…smell me?" She heard more than saw the confusion on his face.

"It's not that you smell _bad_ or anything. It's just something I noticed. You smell like a combination of wet dirt and Irish Spring soap. It's interesting." She stopped kicking her legs and looked over at him. "How's your dad taking the conferences?"

"As well as I expected he'd take it," Isaac replied, running his hand through his loose curls.

Her nose wrinkled. "So…not well?"

"No."

Melanie nodded her head as if she understood. She did, a little bit. The first and only time she had spoken to Mr. Lahey he seemed…constricted in a way. As if he was holding himself back. As if he had to stay tight and puckered up just in case something leaked out. Something he didn't want her to see. She turned her head to look at Isaac again, look at the bruise that had formed around his eye. She reached out and touched the purpled skin. Isaac flinched under her hand, under her touch, and leaned away.

"Sorry," she said quietly. "I just wanted to see. I didn't mean to hit you."

Isaac snorted. "I've had worse," he replied. His gaze was on the lockers but his eyes were far away. Her eyebrows narrowed. What did he mean by that? As if sensing her unasked question he cleared his throat and continued, "Lacrosse hits are pretty hard. I cracked a rib last year. That hurt more than this, don't worry. It's not a big deal."

"Still, I want to make it up to you somehow."

"You don't have to."

"I know. I want to. We're friends, right? That's what we do for each other."

Like last time he seemed to freeze at the word—friends—but then a slow and shy smile appeared on his face. He licked his lips and nodded his head, the smile still remaining.

"I haven't…that is, I don't know how…" He stopped and started his sentence a few times that Melanie eventually had to stop him from talking for fear that he would use up all the oxygen in his body just from trying.

"You've been doing a good job so far," she pointed out, "saying 'hi' and waiting for me after practice and stuff and being supportive." She tucked her hair behind her ear and added, "I really appreciate that. I don't think I would have made the team if it weren't for you."

"Your determination did that, not me," he replied.

"Yeah but if you didn't urge Coach to let me try out he would've kicked me off again."

"I mean…he kinda can't. You have the principal on your side plus its discrimination and—"

Melanie grabbed his hand, gave it a squeeze and said with a little laugh, "Will you please stop downplaying and just say 'you're welcome'?"

He briefly glanced down at her fingers wrapped around his and then looked up at her and said quietly, "You're welcome."

"Isaac!" Mr. Lahey's booming voice bounced off the lockers that lined the hallway. Isaac pulled his hand from Melanie's grasp and dropped down from the window sill, his eyes wide. "Is this is what caused your grades to fall? Been spending time with her?" he jerked his thumb in Melanie's direction, otherwise not giving her the time of day.

"No, that's not it," Isaac replied. "It's just…some classes are hard…"

"You're just not trying hard enough," Mr. Lahey replied. "But don't worry; we'll get you on a tight schedule until you bring them up."

"Uh, great," Isaac muttered, looking down at his feet.

Mr. Lahey crossed his arms. "Aren't you going to thank me for taking time out to help you?"

Isaac rubbed the back of his neck. "Thanks, Dad."

Melanie pushed air out of her nose. How could someone like Mr. Lahey treat his own son that way? His last living family member? Surely that news alone would make them _closer_. It wasn't as if it was Isaac's fault that his mother and brother weren't alive anymore. Her fingers curled up into her palms and she bit down on her lower lip to keep from saying something that would only get her into trouble. The longer she held onto her lip the more pressure built up into her chest until she felt as if she were going to explode.

"Melanie?" Melanie let go of her lip, causing her to let go of her breath at the same time all at once. She hopped down from the window as her mom and dad approached. "Are you ready to go?" Arabella asked, lightly smoothing down her daughter's hair.

"Are the conferences over?" she asked.

"Yes. We're going to do anything we can to help you get your grades up," Arabella replied. "After all, you can't continue playing lacrosse if you have bad marks."

"I'm surprised you aren't going to attempt sabotage then," Melanie said dryly. Laurence snorted but turned it into a cough when Arabella glared at him.

"Excuse me," Mr. Lahey spoke up while approaching them, "Did you just say that she is on the lacrosse team?"

"Yes, she's on second line," Arabella replied. "I'm sorry; I don't believe we have met."

"Mom, this is Isaac Lahey and his dad," Melanie said, pointing to them in turn. "Isaac's on the lacrosse team and he was my partner on that French project I was telling you about."

"It's nice to meet you," Arabella said, extending her hand to shake both of theirs. Isaac's cheeks flushed as he shook their hands and then he looked down at his feet.

"Let me get this straight, you let your daughter play on the boy's lacrosse team?" Mr. Lahey continued, ignoring Arabella's extended hand. One of her perfectly plucked eyebrows popped up at the gesture and she slowly lowered her arm.

"Yes we did. She wanted to do it and who are we to stand in her way?" she replied, her voice losing all of its natural warmth in an instant.

Mr. Lahey laughed, crossing his arms over his chest and corrected his stance. "Maybe someone who doesn't want to turn their child gay," he said in a breezy tone.

"Is that possible?" Melanie asked innocently. She always thought that being homosexual or of a different sexuality was something that they were born with. She turned her questioning eyes over to Isaac who had an expression that was a mix of shame and embarrassment. "Isaac?"

"Let's just…go…" he said, grabbing her elbow and pulled her down the hall. He didn't stop until they were both outside in the cool, crisp air. Melanie shoved her hands into her pockets to try and protect them from the bitter cold that had started biting while walking in the direction of her car. No sense in standing out in the cold when she could wait inside with the heat on blast. Isaac rubbed his hand over his face. Red already began pooling in his cheeks due to the temperature. "I'm sorry about him," he said. "He's not…he wasn't always like this."

"It's okay," Melanie said with a shrug. "I mean it's not but…" A white cloud billowed out in front of her face as she sighed. "It's whatever. That's how he is. He'll be the one who has to deal with it." Isaac stared at her. "What? You're looking at me as if I grew a second head." Wait…. She yanked her hands out of her pockets and felt around her neck. "I didn't, did I? Did I get bitten by some weird radioactive spider?"

"No, no, it's not that," Isaac replied, "It's just…my father was being awful…and yet you just go along like…you're so mellow."

Melanie sucked in her breath and let it out slowly while digging in her pockets for her keys. "Well, I try not to let what others say dictate my mood," she replied, "if I did I'd let Jackson keep me off the lacrosse team and _that's_ not gonna happen. I won't give him the satisfaction of driving me away."

Isaac had begun to say something in response but a woman's scream cut him off. Melanie whirled around, heart ramming against her chest as her eyes darted to find the source of the scream. Parents ran around the parking lot, trying to get to their cars and get out of the way of _something_.

"What's going on?" Melanie asked aloud.

"I don't know," Isaac replied.

"Wait, where are my mom and dad?" her eyes bounced from person to person in the parking lot as the scared parents ran by. "Did they come out yet? Mom! Dad!"

"Wait, Mel, no!" Isaac called out. He grabbed her hand and yanked her back to stop her from running. "We don't even know what it is!"

"But—"

"You could get hit! Come on!"

Tugging her hand, he began to run in the opposite direction of the school, towards the back of the parking lot. She had to increase the amount of steps she took to keep up with his long stride. Her cheeks and nose burned in the cold. Tears lined the rims of her eyes and carved tear tracks down her face. Her heart rammed against her chest and her palms flooded with sweat. She could feel the hand of fear gripping at her, squeezing tight until her head began to pound.

A gunshot cracked through the air. Isaac dropped down and pulled Melanie down with him. He pushed her head down and covered it with his arms as another one rung out. Screams followed the gunshots but they weren't human-like at all. It sounded like a wounded animal in pain.

_Scott?_ Melanie peeked out between Isaac's arms to see that everything had come to a standstill. The screeching of tires and screams had come to a halt. People started to gather around something that was illuminated in bright beams of the headlights. "Are you okay?" She lifted her head to see Isaac's blue eyes trained on her.

"Yeah," Melanie replied, her voice quiet. He backed away and she stood at full height, glancing at the gathering crowd again. Like the rest of the onlookers, she found the pull of her curiosity so strong that she made her way through the cars to reach the group. She pushed and shoved her way through the crowd with her elbows until she finally spotted what it was that had gotten shot.

It was a mountain lion.

* * *

><p>an - Well, what did you think? Things are getting tense now! As always, thanks to those who fav/alert/review. I see I've gotten some new favs/alerts over the past couple of days, I would love to know what you quiet readers/lurkers think. Drop a review, us author's love 'em. Also, what do you think of my new cover image for the story? Made it myself. I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please leave a review.


	10. Ahead of the Pack

**Chapter 10: Ahead of the Pack**

It wasn't a good time to have best friends. Melanie tried relentlessly to get Erica to talk to her but she got radio silence for the past two days. She tried showing up at Erica's house to drive her to school only to be told by Mrs. Reyes that Erica wasn't feeling well enough to attend. She tried calling and leaving messages and sending texts but got nothing back. She even had her mom send Erica her favorite flowers—daisies—and still nothing.

She was happy to see that Stiles and Scott were still on the outs and felt bad about being happy about it at the same time. But misery loved company. She was misery and Stiles was her company. They spent their free periods together, mainly so Stiles could dodge Scott, but lunch was when it became unbearable. Even if she was bothered by Scott abandoning them in a sense she tried to keep a conversation going hoping that Stiles would jump in and they could fix things but he stayed quiet. Even when Melanie asked about Derek teaching him how to become a better werewolf Stiles didn't take the bait.

Lacrosse practice was worse. Scott had been placed in goal and Stiles was taking every chance he could get to hit Scott with a lacrosse ball. Scott had apologized time and time again about not being around and for Sheriff Stilinski getting hit by a car but Stiles still sat around with his lips pulled back and a glare embedded on his face.

With those two fighting still she knew it wouldn't be a good time to bring up the idea that she wanted to talk to Derek about her dreams. Stiles still wasn't fond of the boy nor did he trust him but Melanie thought that he had to know something about why she was dreaming of the Alpha. The dreams couldn't have been precognitive, she didn't suddenly grow a fin or wings overnight but they had to mean _something_. Especially if the Alpha to be in her own neighborhood.

She had finally made up her mind and decided to ask about her idea when the ball rang to signal the end of class. Thankfully she was in the right place at the right time when she spotted Stiles and Scott coming out from a side door. Quickly closing her locker and replacing the lock, she clutched her books to her chest and raced after them.

"He wants you to tap into your animal side and get angry?" Stiles was asking. Scott nodded. "Alright, well correct me if I'm wrong but every time you do that you try to kill someone, namely me."

"Oh my god, have you two still not learned to _whisper_? You're in the halls!" Melanie said, elbowing her way between Stiles and Scott.

"Sorry," Stiles and Scott replied in unison.

"So have you two made up yet?" she asked. Scott and Stiles looked at each other over their heads. She shook her hers. Boys. "Never mind. What are you talking about?"

"Derek wants to teach Scott how to control his shifting," Stiles replied.

"How's he gonna do that?" Melanie asked, her nose wrinkling.

"I don't know," Scott replied. "I don't think he does either."

"When are you seeing him again?" Stiles asked.

"He told me not to talk about it. Just act normal and get through the rest of the day."

"When?" Stiles stressed, stopping them from walking.

"He's picking me up at the Animal Clinic after work," Scott said.

"After work," Stiles replied. "Alright, well that gives me to the end of the school day then."

"To do what?" Melanie and Scott asked in unison. She didn't like the tone he used or the look on his face.

"To teach him myself," Stiles said.

Melanie laughed. Stiles and Scott looked at her and the expressions on their faces made her laugh even harder. She doubled over, holding her stomach as her chest expanded and contracted due to her breathing. Finally she got herself under control and said in a high pitched voice, "I'm sorry, you just said something really funny. Stiles, come on. How in the _world_ are you going to teach him?"

Stiles licked his lower lip. He was clearly affronted by Melanie's attitude towards his plan. "You don't think I can do it?" he asked.

"I don't think you know what you're up against," she replied. She lowered her voice, looked around, and said, "He's a werewolf, not a puppy. Someone who's been there could probably do a better job. Any sort of humanity in him goes out the window when the animal side kicks in. How are you going to protect yourself if something goes wrong?"

"I'm not going to hurt him," Scott jumped in.

"So you say." She rubbed the side of her head. "I don't mean to be a Negative Nancy but I'm just saying there's a difference between what we read in books and the real thing. Even my knowledge about them is limited."

"Well see, that's the difference between you and me," Stiles said, "you give up when the information you get runs dry. I can think outside the box." He paused. "Give me until after lunch and I can come up with something."

"Five bucks you're in over your head," Melanie shot back.

"Deal." Stiles held out his hand and slapped her palm.

"Guys! I can't believe you're betting on me," Scott said, appalled.

"My pride is on the line," Stiles told him.

"Yeah and apparently it has a cheap price," Melanie said with a teasing smile, pressing her elbow into her side. She lifted her head as the lunch bell rang. "Okay guys, I'll see you after lunch." Scott reached out and grabbed the top of her backpack. She jogged in place, trying to get out of his grip and then finally stopped to look back at him. "Why aren't I going anywhere?" she asked.

"I need you to do me a favor," Scott replied.

"Scott, as much as I want to, I'm not a licensed cosmetologist so I can't give you a haircut," Melanie replied. She giggled when Scott's eyebrows lowered and he ran his hands through his hair. He paused and then shook his head.

"No, not that," he said. "I kinda have to stay away from Allison." Melanie snorted. Scott sighed. "Derek's orders. But I can't sit with her at lunch so…I need you to distract her."

"That's what Lydia's for," Melanie pointed out, turning to walk away. Scott grabbed onto her backpack again.

"Please," he begged. "Just…talk to her about something. I've been dodging her all day, she'll want to try and sit with me. Talk to her about girl stuff. Makeup…clothes…_boys_! Only…only not me."

Melanie scoffed. "You have a very skewed view on girls if you think that's all we have to talk about," she pointed out.

"Melanie, _please_!"

"Okay!" she cried out, throwing her arms into the air. "Okay, fine, I'll sit with her. But you owe me!" Boy, would he owe her. Somehow he forgot that she and Lydia ate lunch together all the time ad she and Lydia had as many things in common as cats and elephants. What in the world would they be able to talk about? She didn't now but whatever it was she knew it would have to last at least an hour.

She groaned. An hour eating lunch with Lydia. What fun. Sighing, she followed the mass of students to the cafeteria and looked around. It was only when she stood in line and spotted the two girls talking that she remembered she had promised to sit with Isaac that day. She didn't want to eat lunch alone in the music room again and he had offered to keep her company. She twisted her mouth to the side as she pulled out her phone to send him a text. She knew he would understand but it didn't stop her stomach from sinking and disappointment and regret from washing over her.

**Mel:** _There's a bit of a change of plans. Sitting with Allison and Lydia today. _

She bit her thumbnail as the text was sent off. She peered through a few heads over to a round table that Isaac had been sitting at. It looked uncomfortable for him. He had to scrunch his tall frame down at a low table. His long legs were curled in awkwardly beneath his chair. She bit down harder when he reached for his phone. He checked the screen, lightly grabbed at his hair, and then tapped his thumbs against his phone before setting it aside. Melanie jumped when her phone buzzed in her hand.

**Isaac:** _Oh, okay. I'll see you later then. Rain check?_

Melanie let out the breath she was holding and felt herself bounce on her toes in elation. Great! He still wanted to sit with her. Smile spreading across her face she shot back a quick reply and then turned to gather some food on her tray. It was nice not to have a friend mad at her.

She shuffled down the line, gathering any food that grabbed her eye (in a good way, she wanted to avoid the green-tinged meat even if it was just her eyes playing tricks on her) and then paid for it. Smiling her thanks at the worker, she grabbed her tray and made a beeline for Allison's and Lydia's table.

"Heyyy," she dragged out, garnering their attention, "is it alright if I sit here?" She nodded at the seat across from Allison.

"Oh, uhm," Allison stammered. She looked over at Lydia who looked at her nails. Allison turned back to Melanie and said with a dimpled-smile, "Sure, sit down."

"Thanks." Melanie rounded the table and pulled back the blue plastic chair. It scraped against the tile floor. She set her tray down and dropped into the chair, setting her books and bag down in the empty chair next to her. Curling her legs around the legs of the chair she scooted herself forward and looked up to see Allison and Lydia watching her. "So!" She clasped her hands together in her lap. "This is cozy." Lydia turned her attention back to the piece of meat on her fork and took a bite. Melanie nodded her head and looked over at Allison, noticing the large book propped up on her knee. "What are you reading?" she asked.

"Some book my Aunt Kate showed me," Allison replied. "I was telling Lydia about the Beast of Gevaudan." Melanie paused with her fork full of greenbeans halfway to her mouth. "You've heard of it?" Allison asked excitedly.

"…Kinda," Melanie replied, slowly. She remembered reading a little bit about the story in one of her supernatural books but it was nothing more than a few sentences. How did Allison have so much information on it?

"Listen to this," Allison continued. She cleared her throat and began reading. Melanie sat still and listened to every word as she recounted the story, ignoring Lydia's interruptions to mention that the story was 'boring'. But Melanie was captivated. She didn't dare to breathe, wanting to catch every word that Allison spoke. Something about it rattled her deep in her bones. Something about it wasn't just a story for her ancestors. It was Lydia's dismissing comment about killing a big wolf that snapped her out of her trance-like state.

"Not just a big wolf. Take a look at this," Allison said while flipping some pages. Melanie had successfully taken a bite of her food when Allison turned the book around. She almost launched her chewed food across the table in her surprise when she looked at the picture. It was a big, shadowy wolf-like creature with red eyes.

_The Alpha_? Melanie's breath caught painfully in her throat. She grabbed her water bottle and chugged some of it, noticing the looks that Allison and Lydia were giving her out of the corner of her eye. "Sorry–thought I was choking!" she explained once she swallowed and resealed the cap.

Lydia's eyes narrowed. "If you were choking—"

"Hey! So!" Melanie interrupted her. "What did that look like to you?"

Lydia looked at the picture again. Melanie lowered her head to scoop more food into her mouth and looked up when Allison called Lydia's name. One of Melanie's eyebrows dropped at the sight of Lydia staring at the book. She stared so long Melanie was surprised her eyes didn't burn a hole through the book. She had to hide her sudden smile. That would be an interesting power indeed.

"Lydia," Allison called again.

Lydia's gaze on the book broke. Allison's mouth twitched with an unasked question. Lydia sat up straight, regained her composure, and said, "It looks like a big wolf." Her smirk-like smile replied to her face as she trilled "See you in history", gathered her things, and left the two girls at the table.

Allison closed the book and set it aside. "That was weird," she noted.

"Mhm, very," Melanie agreed, looking over her shoulder. She nearly fell out of her chair when she spotted Scott trying desperately to hide behind his textbook. That was his plan to avoid her? By using that book as a shield? She groaned and held her face. Boys!

"Are you alright?" Allison asked, noticing the sound that came out of Melanie's mouth and the way she was holding her face. "Do you feel sick? Do you need the nurse?" They weren't the best of friends but if Melanie was sick Allison wasn't against helping her there. She would hope that someone would do the same if she were in need.

"Me? No! I'm fine! I'm great! I'm good!" Melanie said, sitting straight up. "I was just…thinking about how I…how I…" _C'mon Mel, think! Think!_ Her eyes roamed the room, avoiding Allison's concerned gaze, and then they rested on Isaac who was still eating by himself. _That's it!_ "How I…meant to add something to my project on Greece before I turned it in. Would've tied it all together."

"Oh," Allison said simply. "Oh, well, I'm sure it's okay. You got an A on it, didn't you?"

"A+," Melanie corrected. She couldn't help it, she was proud of the work she and Isaac did on the project. It didn't even feel like a project to her, it was fun. Not only did she get a chance to learn more about Greek Mythology but she got to get to know Isaac from it too and she couldn't have asked for a better result from it. Now if only she could stop jumping onto his lap… "What about you?"

"Go a B," Allison replied. She tried to smile but it didn't reach all the way to her eyes. Melanie stared at her, probing her continue. "Buuttt," she dragged, "I kinda wish I had a better partner. I ended up doing all of the work."

"Yeah, that's the risk you end up taking on projects." Melanie grabbed the brownie that was sitting on her plate and took a bite. The rush of chocolate and sugar hurt behind her jaw but it was a pain that she found pleasure in. "I got lucky," she added, looking over at Isaac again. Allison turned in her seat, her hair making a brief halo as it whipped around. When she turned back her eyes were sparkling and her lips were pressed together as if she were trying to keep in a secret that wanted out. Melanie didn't miss the expression on her face. "What?" Melanie asked.

"Nothing," Allison replied, poking at her food. The smile never left her face. "Just that you two seem to have gotten close, that's all."

"Yeah, we're friends," Melanie stated.

"I bet you are," Allison replied.

Melanie paused her chewing. She didn't like the tone Allison used. And what was that supposed to mean? _'I bet you are'_?. She just said they were friends, what else could they be? Melanie shook her head. She always thought Allison was a bit weird. That just confirmed it. She swallowed the bite she had been chewing and went for her carton of milk. A commotion made her turn her head. Stiles had grabbed Scott's books and was leaving the cafeteria with it. Scott grabbed his backpack and hastily ran after them. If they were trying to be subtle it wasn't working. Allison noticed right away.

"Scott?" Allison called out. But her words fell on deaf ears as Scott and Stiles kept walking. "Scott, wait!" Allison called again as she gathered her books

"Wait, Allison," Melanie said hastily wiping milk off her lip. "I need to ask you something!"

"Later," Allison replied. "I need to catch Scott."

Allison was already out of her seat and across the cafeteria before Melanie could stop her. She sighed. She hoped she had bought Scott enough time to get out. Looking around, she noticed that others at the long table she was sitting at had left and she was alone with their empty trays. Clicking her tongue, she gathered her own books, her bag, her tray, and crossed the room to where Isaac was sitting. He seemed to straighten up as she approached.

"Hey," she greeted him. "That rain check still good?"

He smiled.

**# # #**

The period after lunch was a free period for her. After saying goodbye to Isaac she checked her phone and jogged to the locker room where her lacrosse stick was held. Stiles had texted her, asking her to bring it along and meet him and Scott at the practice fields. She didn't mind spending her free period practicing her shots and her skills if it gave her a better chance to make first line. It was also the right distraction she needed to get her mind off of Erica.

She expected to get good use out of her stick but she didn't expect her target to be Scott. Stiles explained how, in his opinion, that the key to Scott controlling his werewolf powers would be to control his heart rate. Melanie frowned at that. Not that she had lost out on five bucks but because there was nothing like that in her books, nothing like that in the bank of information stored in her head. Hell, there was nothing like that written in _Harry Potter_ and yet Stiles came to that conclusion? She shouldn't have been surprised being that it was Stiles, he was a smart kid, but it was that she said she could help them out but how could she when Stiles had all the answers?

Her jaw clenched. Did she really get into all of this for nothing? Scott had Stiles, what use could she be? Identifying wolfsbane? Derek was there for that. Where did she fit? Back in the world of normalcy? She couldn't just abandon them now. Not when she was that far in and, supposedly, had a connection to the alpha. Sticking her lacrosse stick on the ground, she scooped up a ball that Stiles had rolled out onto the grass for the exercise. Their goal? Get Scott angry to see how well he could control his heart rate and to do that they were to throw the lacrosse balls at him.

Melanie glanced at Stiles out of the corner of his eye and noticed the half smile on his face as he grabbed his own lacrosse stick. it was almost a little sinister. It was a weird addition to his face. Either way she waited for him to give the go ahead to throw the ball. She hesitated but he went ahead and lobbed it at Scott, hitting him in the stomach. She gasped as Scott doubled over in pain. His pain seemed to bring Stiles some joy as he giggled before getting another ball. He lobbed that one without hesitation as well, smacking Scott in the face.

"Maybe you fixed his jaw with that one," Melanie couldn't help but joke.

"Gee, thanks," Scott grumbled.

"I'm sorry! The opportunity was there," she said, laughing.

"You throw some too," Stiles told her. "Get some target practice in."

"Wait a minute," Scott protested.

"Quiet. Remember you're supposed to be thinking about your heart rate, alright? About staying calm," Stiles reminded him. He regarded Melanie. "Come on, throw some at him too."

She didn't need to be urged twice. Silently apologizing to Scott, she drew back her arm and threw the ball at Scott. It flew past his head. Frowning, she scooped up another one and threw that. It smacked him against the chest. She and Stiles went back and forth throwing balls at him. They rained down on his chest, stomach, arms, and legs. One shot even hit him in the crotch which made Melanie fall over laughing despite his obvious pain. She regained her composure and threw a few more. But it was Stiles's last throw that got Scott angry. When he fell to his knees and began breathing heavy they both stopped what they were doing. Stiles went to the beeping phone and Melanie rushed to Scott's side.

"Scott?" she asked, apprehensively.

"Stay back," he ordered, still breathing heavy.

She backed away rapidly, eyes widened, pulse racing as he wrenched his arms from behind his back, ripping through the tape like scissors through paper. He dug his fingers into the soft earth and continued to breathe heavily as the beeping raced. Finally they backed off and Scott's breathing eased. Melanie and Stiles took that as a sign that it was safe to approach him.

"You started to change," Stiles noted.

"From anger," Scott breathed, "but it was more than that. It's like the angrier I got…the stronger I felt."

"The animal side was kicking in," Melanie commented.

"So it is anger then," Stiles concluded. "Derek's right."

"I can't be around Allison," Scott said. She didn't miss the sad tone that had molded around his words. It made her heart ache, hearing such raw emotion.

"Just because she makes you happy?" Stiles asked.

Scott shook his head. "No. Because she makes me weak."

Melanie deflated, her shoulders sagged and her eyes drooped and she stared at Scott as if he had said that clouds were made of cotton candy. Hearing that was the dumbest thing she had ever heard. But she kept her mouth shut. She learned a long time ago saying anything remotely bad against Allison around Scott was not a good idea. Instead they grabbed their gear and went back to the locker room. Melanie even insisted on entering the boys' locker room so as not to miss whatever conversation they were about to have. She didn't want to be left out.

"So you have to stay away from Allison for a few days, big deal," Melanie said with a roll of her eyes as she sat on the bench in the locker room. There was no way she was going to touch anything in there. "It can't be _that_ hard."

"You don't understand," Scott groaned. "I just…I can't be away from her."

"I've noticed," she mumbled, deadpan.

"But is it a few days or is it forever?" Scott asked. They didn't miss the worry in his voice.

"You know this whole women makes you weak thing is a little too Spartan warrior for me," Stiles commented.

"What he said," Melanie agreed, jerking her thumb in his direction.

"It's probably just part of the learning process," Stiles continued.

"But you've seen Derek," Scott moaned, "He's all alone. What if I can never be around her again?"

"Well if you're not dead that could be a good thing," Stiles deadpanned.

"I'd rather be dead," Scott mumbled.

"Alright, you're not gonna end up like Derek. We'll figure it out."

"Yeah, there has to be some way you can have both if you want it so badly," Melanie added. "Have your cake and eat it too." She sighed in a wistful manner. "Now I want cake…"

Stiles snorted and ruffled her head. "Come on, let's get out of here," he said.

Melanie stood, fixing her hair, and Scott grabbed his backpack. "Something smells terrible in here anyway," Scott said.

"Really? In a boy's locker-room? That doesn't make any sense at all," Stiles said sarcastically. Melanie shoved him forward.

"Nah, it's like something's rotting or dying," Scott clarified.

"Ew," Melanie said, making a face. "Glad I don't have to deal with the nose of a bloodhound." She patted Scott's back. "Sorry for you."

The trio left the locker room while, behind them, a pale and gaunt-looking Jackson stepped out from behind a bank of lockers.

**# # #**

Economics with Coach Finstock was their next class that they had to sit through. Melanie sat in front of Stiles and next to Isaac while Allison managed to squeeze her way into the seat behind Scott. Coach Finstock started out the class as he always did, asking for those who read the homework to raise their hands. It was a tactic just to weed out those who didn't so he could put them on the spot, everyone knew. This time his target was Scott.

Those who knew Coach as unbearable on the field didn't know how he could be in class towards his own players. He didn't let up on them. Melanie bit her lip and fidgeted in her seat as Coach fired question after question at him, demeaning him. She tried sitting one way and then shifted so she was sitting on her hands. She bit her lip and tried to think of a song to keep herself from giving into the pressure of defending him. It just wouldn't be a good idea to step in and try to save Scott. She didn't want Finstock's wrath off the field as well.

Anger built up inside of her. It just wasn't fair! Why didn't he pick on someone else? Then she heard it. The beeping from the phone that Stiles stole from Finstock. Her eyes widened and she sat up straighter. Couldn't he turn down the volume or something? How stupid could Stiles be? She gritted her teeth. _C'mon Scott, relax. Keep it under control_.

"Are you okay?" she heard Isaac whisper across the aisle.

She managed to send a reassuring smile his way. "Yeah, just, uh, just a little tummy ache," she replied. But that was an understatement. Her stomach was flip-flopping all over the place. She couldn't even begin to imagine how Scott was feeling. The beeps got higher pitched and occurred faster. She held her breath. _Don't wolf out, don't wolf out_.

And then the beeping slowed. She sat up straighter in her chair. What in the world could have caused his heart beat to slow down? She half turned in her chair and saw it. Allison had leaned forward and grabbed a hold of his hand. She turned around all the way to look at Stiles. He looked as exasperated as she felt. _Of course it was Allison._

Class went by as a boring blur and the next thing they knew school was over. Melanie gathered up her things and waited for Scott and Stiles before leaving the room with them. They left in silence and didn't bother talking until they got into the halls.

"It's her," Stiles announced.

Scott looked around, his eyes clouded in confusion. "What do you mean?" he asked.

"It's Allison," Stiles explained. "Remember what you told me the night of the full moon? You were thinking about her, right? And then the night of the lacrosse game? You were thinking about her so you could score. And in the locker room you didn't kill her. At least not like how you were trying to kill me." Scott stared at her.

"I don't think he gets it," Melanie relayed.

"She brings you back, is what I'm trying to say," Stiles said.

"But it's not always true," Scott protested, "because literally every time I'm kissing her or I'm-I'm touching her—"

"No, that's not the same," Stiles interrupted him. "When you're doing that you're just another hormonal teenager thinking about sex." Melanie tilted her head as a smile inched its way onto Scott's face. The look wasn't lost on Stiles who immediately read Scott's mind. "You're thinking about sex right now aren't you?"

"Yeah," Scott laughed, unashamed. He quickly changed his tune when Melanie cleared her throat and glared at him. "Sorry."

"Look, back in the classroom when she was holding your hand that was different okay? I don't think she makes you weak, I think she actually gives you control."

"Like an anchor," Melanie supplied, catching on.

"Exactly," Stiles said.

"Yeah, because I love her," Scott said easily. Melanie stopped walking and gaped at him once the words slammed into her brain. Her ears buzzed. What did he just say? It seemed that his mind was thinking the same thing because he stopped short.

"Did I just say that?" he whispered.

"Yeah," Melanie replied, still stunned.

"I love her," Scott repeated.

"That's great," Stiles said, unimpressed, "Now moving on—"

"No, no, no. Really. I think I'm totally in love with her."

"And that's beautiful. Now before you go off and write a _sonnet_ can we figure this out please?" Stiles asked. His tone was borderline impatient at this point.

"Because you obviously can't be around her all the time," Melanie added, a bit of an edge to her voice. It was enough to snap Scott out of his reverie.

"Yeah, sorry," Scott said, blinking rapidly. "So what do I do?"

"I don't know!" Stiles cried out, clearly frustrated at this point. He spun in a circle as he thought and a light appeared in his eye.

"Oh no, you're getting an idea aren't you?" Scott groaned.

"Yeah," Stiles replied.

"Is this idea gonna get me in trouble?"

"Maybe."

"Is this idea gonna cause me physical pain?"

"Yeah, definitely."

"Ooh, then I'm out," Melanie said, holding up her hands and backing away. She didn't want to be involved in another one of Stiles' plans. "I need to take Erica some homework and I gotta help Mom out today. Text me later!" She called out and then ran down the hall.

**# # #**

Melanie tapped her fingers against the steering wheel as she sat in the parking lot of the Animal Clinic. She had been on her way to Flowerworks when she remembered Scott saying that Derek was going to meet him to try and train him. So she deviated from her normal route and drove to the Animal Clinic instead. The parking lot was nearly empty save for the smattering of cars parked. She pulled into a parking spot and waited for Derek to show up.

The time ticked by slowly. She glanced at the time on her phone every two minutes and when that wasn't driving her crazy she was obsessively sending Erica texts. Some were asking how she was, some were telling her how much she missed her friend, and others were of kittens in baskets. Erica couldn't resist kittens in baskets. But each text got no response. Like usual.

Melanie got comfortable in her seat. It felt weird sitting in her truck by herself. Erica was always right there next to her, criticizing her taste in music but singing along as if her life depended on it when a song they both enjoyed came on the radio. Melanie cracked a smile when she thought back to the day she first got her truck.

It was two days after her sixteenth birthday. Her father had surprised her with it after he picked her up from school. The first thing she did once she got the keys was jump in, grab Erica, and drive to the local ice cream store for a float. They had a taste of freedom that day. With the wind flowing through the air and their worries quickly fading into the distance the open road was ahead of them, full of possibilities. Their future was bright. She only expected Erica to be there right next to her like on that day, to experience the ride of her life with her. And one small argument was putting the brakes on that. She knew Erica could be stubborn but this was ridiculous!

Melanie had started to compose another text but her thumbs froze. The hair on the back of her neck stood up. Her breath caught in her chest. As if being pulled by a thread, she lifted her head and looked out the window.

"_Yipes_!" she screamed when she saw Derek's intense gaze staring back at her. She took a deep breath to begin to slow her racing heart and shoved her phone in her pocket. Grabbing her keys, she popped open the driver's side door and dropped down to the ground.

"What do you want?" Derek demanded.

"How'd you know I was waiting for you?" Melanie asked, closing her door behind her.

"What do you _want_?" he repeated, ignoring her question.

"I need to talk to you."

"So talk."

Melanie hesitated. She remembered how she explained her dreams to Stiles and how they couldn't come to some sort of solution. She had a bit more of a blind faith in Derek but what if he couldn't help her either? What if she was just certifiably crazy?

_"Today_," Derek stressed.

Melanie jumped. "Right, yeah, sorry," she mumbled. "It's…it's this. For the past couple of weeks I've been having these dreams. I was…I dunno, a mermaid in one and a bird-human thing in another."

Derek snorted. "Sounds like you need to lay off the sugar before bed," he commented.

"That's not it. In them I…I saw these glowing red eyes." That statement seemed to grab Derek's attention. A muscle in his jaw twitched but he didn't say anything so she continued. "I thought they were just random eyes at first. A nightmare sort of thing. Then I got involved in this and found out what the Alpha was and…the eyes are the same. And-and he was outside of my house once and—"

"What?" Derek snapped, his eyebrows furrowing. "The Alpha was at your house? Did it do anything?"

"No! No! I just saw it's eyes in the bushes. Nothing happened. No attacks. Nothing weird. It was as if it was just…watching me or something," Melanie replied. Derek stayed as silent as ever. Melanie kicked at the ground, the rubber on the bottom of her shoes scuffed against the gravel. "Why would I dream about the Alpha before I even knew it existed? How is that even possible?"

"I don't know," Derek admitted. "But whatever you do don't try to approach it and don't think you can handle it by yourself."

Melanie huffed. Here she thought Derek could help her but he was being as big of help as Stiles and Scott. "What makes you think I'd try to approach it?" she demanded.

"You don't seem to have a problem with barging past boundaries that you have no reason to go past," he commented. Melanie opened her mouth to protest but stopped herself. He had a point there; even she had to admit that. "Yeah, so, unless you have anything else you'd like to share that I don't care about, there's something I need to take care of."

"What is it?" Melanie asked, following after him. She nearly ran into his back when he stopped walking and whirled around to look down on her. "Maybe I can help."

"What did I just tell you?" he demanded.

"Uhhh…to not approach the Alpha?"

"Exactly."

"Well, yeah, but what does that have anything to do with…?" her voice trailed off as she looked around. Her eyes were pulled over to the sign outside the building as if attracted to it. Beacon Hills Animal Clinic. "No way," she muttered. Derek's eyes popped up so he looked at the sky and then fell back to her. "You think _Dr. Deaton_ is the Alpha?"

Derek held her gaze. "Only one way to find out."

* * *

><p><em><strong>an**_ - I don't know about you guys when it comes to reading it but I love writing the dynamic between Derek and Melanie. Hell, I like writing the dynamic between her and a lot of people but something about writing her in scenes with Derek I find really enjoyable. We're getting close to my favorite episode of the season, Night School, and I can't wait for you guys to see what I did with it. Hint: it's so action packed that it had to be split into two chapters. So get excited for that! What did you think of this chapter? Please leave a review.

Also, to comment on _Guest_'s review: I appreciate the passion you have for Erica/Melanie. Honestly, I had thought about writing them together since the beginning but wasn't sure how well received it would be/was afraid to attempt it just in case I ended up offending anyone or portraying something wrong. However, after thinking long and hard about it, I decided to give it a go. It has been reflected in the summary (I added in Erica/OC) and so I will have to tweak plans I had for the story a little bit to make it work but I hope you all enjoy what I have planned now. To go along with this, and just to get an idea of the people out there reading, I have a poll up on my profile that pertains to this story that I would like for you to answer just to get a feel of where you are.

Thanks for reading!


	11. Nightmare on Beacon Street Part 1

**Chapter 11: Nightmare on Beacon Street Part 1**

Night fell before Melanie was finally clued in one what went on the two hours she was banished by Derek to her truck in the parking lot. As if she was really going to be stupid enough to go charging in on an Alpha! …Okay, sometimes her body worked before her brain but she wouldn't be that _crazy_. Derek had left before Scott came out, his tires squealed as he raced out of the parking lot. Smoking tire tracks were left in his wake.

Scott exited the building sometime later, telling her to meet him and Stiles at the school. She left without needing to be told twice. Scott had a serious look on his face that she had only seen twice in her life and it shook her to her very core like it did when she was younger.

The parking lot of Beacon Hills High was scarcely lit up by the street lamps. The shadows it created stretched and reached out across the asphalt. Sitting in the parking lot where a mountain lion was just shot and killed felt odd. Like she was calling out to all the spirits that would listen to wreak some sort of havoc on them. It sure felt like it, with the weight that pressed down on her shoulders. But she didn't have much time to think about it for Stiles' jeep pulled into the parking lot. She exited her car and approached Scott and Stiles as they climbed out.

"So…you want to try and face with Alpha with just a pair of bolt cutters?" Melanie asked, lifting her head to motion towards the tool in Stiles's had. "What are you going to do, pierce his nose?"

"You have a better weapon of choice?" Stiles asked.

"This is all I have," she replied, holding up her handy dandy lacrosse stick. "It's better than yours!" She protested towards the look of contempt that Stiles was giving her. The sound of tires crushing asphalt broke through the still air. Derek's black Camaro swung into a parking spot. The trio walked over to the sleek black car as Derek got out.

"Where's my boss?" Scott demanded.

"He's in the back," Derek said, brushing off Scott's concern. They all looked through the windows to see that Dr. Deaton, indeed, was in the back of the car. Bound and gagged but he was back there.

"He looks comfortable," Stiles muttered. Scott nudged Stiles and the two walked towards the school.

"Hey! What are you doing?" Derek demanded.

Scott looked over his shoulder. "You said I was linked with the alpha. I'm gonna see if you're right."

Melanie shoved her hands into her pockets and pulled her jean jacket tighter around her. Despite wearing it over another hooded jacket it didn't keep the cold out. She bent her knees and began bouncing on her toes as she waited. "How are you not cold?" she asked Derek.

"Warm blooded," he replied, "I have a higher core temperature."

"Ah, right," Melanie replied. As if that made all the difference in the world. Must be some werewolf thing. Melanie started pacing around, anything to keep her body temperature up. Eventually she wandered over to Stiles's jeep and waited there. She felt safer standing in the light of the street lamp than she did in the shadows. Derek must of thought of the same thing since he came over and leaned against the back windows.

Silence stretched on between them, the only other sound being the rustling of leaves of the nearby trees. The light breeze caressed her skin and left a slight sting in its wake. But that was soon broken by the worst sound she had ever heard in her entire life. It bounced off the brick of the school and punctuated the ink black sky. _That_ was Scott's idea of a howl?

"He's gotta be kidding me," Derek muttered as Melanie burst out laughing. Half of it was directed at Scott's howling and the other half was directed at Derek's dry delivery. She was glad the car was behind her or else she would have fallen to the ground. It was just so _pathetic_.

The next howl, however, wasn't it. It was much more powerful, much more guttural. It made her laugh lodge itself in her throat and out came a choking sound instead. She stepped away from the jeep and looked up at the school as the last strains of the howl faded away in the distance. She glanced around at Derek, even he seemed impressed with the efforts, if only for a little while. His amazement was quickly replaced with anger.

"I'm gonna kill both of you. What the hell was that?" he demanded once Scott and Stiles came back out of the school and got within earshot of him. Their pride deflated before Melanie's eyes at Derek's harsh tone. "What are you trying to do? Attract the entire state to this school?"

"Sorry, I didn't know it would be that loud," Scott replied, awe still attached to his words.

"Yeah, it was loud. And it was _awesome_," Stiles sang.

"Shut up," Derek snapped.

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Don't be such a sour wolf."

Scott's attention strayed from the conversation to the car behind him and Derek. "What'd you do with him?" he asked as he started forward. Melanie's eyebrows crinkled together. She whirled around and saw…nothing. The backseat was empty. Her heart dropped. How was that possible? They were standing right there.

"What?" Derek murmured and then turned around himself. "I didn't do anything," he insisted after seeing the back door ajar.

"Then how did—?" Melanie started but her words cut off and were replaced with a sharp scream as Derek staggered forward. Blood dripped out of his mouth and he was lifted up into the air. Stiles lurched forward, grabbed Melanie's arm, and pulled her away since her scrambling legs weren't helping support her at the moment. It was then that she saw it. Saw the alpha. He had his claws sunk into Derek's back. Screaming again she, Stiles, and Scott took off up the front lawn and towards the school doors. Melanie skidded to a stop when she heard the sound of a body hitting the brick wall and turned in time to see Derek's lifeless body on the ground. "_Derek_!" she yelled, starting for him.

"Melanie, no!" Scott grabbed onto the hood of her shirt and pulled her into the school. He and Stiles then scrambled to hold the door shut, all three ducking down beneath the windows.

"We have to get him!" Melanie insisted. "He's hurt!"

"So will we be if we go out there!" Stiles hissed amidst Scott yelling at him to lock the doors. Shifting the object of his attention he demanded to know, "Do I look like I have a key?"

"Well find something!" Scott replied.

"What?"

"Anything!"

Stiles stopped moving for a second and then he stood up straight to look out the window. Melanie stayed crouched between the two of them, trembling as she held onto her lacrosse stick. She still stayed seated when Scott stood to see what Stiles was looking at. The two boys bickered but it fell on deaf ears as Stiles still opened the door and slipped out. He wasn't out there for long when Scott started slapping his palm against the door and yelled for his friend. Stiles wrenched the door back open and slipped inside, slamming the handle of the bolt cutters in between the two doors.

"I'm not a genius," Melanie started, her voice trembling as much as her body, "but I don't think that things going to hold for long."

"Probably not," Stiles agreed. He held out his hands and pulled Melanie to her feet. The three huddled together as they backed away from the door. The beam to Stiles's flashlight bounced erratically around the hall as it wobbled in his hand.

Then came the howl. Melanie wasn't sure how she heard it past the thumping of her heart in her ears or the roaring of her rushing blood but she did. She heard it all the way down to her core. It shook her like going down a fast drop on a rollercoaster. They didn't wait long to see where it came from, they turned and took off running in the dark hall. What made school what it was in the daylight turned it into a nightmare now. The clock faces become demons from hell, taunting them as they sprinted by. Shadows of materials used in classrooms reached out and clawed at their heels, stretching to take them down. Light bounced off of locker handles, shining likes eyes, spying on them, an audience for their horror show.

The burst into the first classroom they found with an open door. Melanie backed up towards the windows as Stiles and Scott pushed a desk over to block the door. That is until Stiles stopped them, reminding them that it wouldn't keep the alpha out and then jumped onto the theory that the alpha was Dr. Deaton. Scott still denied the fact and Melanie jumped to his side. It couldn't be Dr. Deaton. Not that sweet man. He could never hurt an injured animal, why would he hurt one of them? Innocent people?

Melanie turned towards the window, looking for a way out. There was no sense in trying to open it, they were locked due to the school being climate controlled. And breaking a window would only signal to the alpha where they were. She looked over at the parking lot where their cars still sat. That was their only option. Get to their cars and get away and hope that, if by some miracle Derek was still alive, he could get away too. But wait… Melanie rubbed her arm over the glass, wiping away the condensation that she had just breathed onto it.

"Uhh…Stiles," she called out, her eyes trained on the mangled and ripped hood of his jeep. "You're going to want to see this!" Stiles and Scott ran over to the window and she pointed.

"Stiles, what the hell happened to your jeep?" Scott asked.

"What do you mean? Nothing's wrong," he said, his voice hitching with worry.

"It's bent!"

"Like dented!?" Stiles inquired, shoving his way between him and Melanie.

"No, I-I mean _bent!_" Scott stated. Melanie pressed her nose against the glass to be sure she was seeing what she was actually seeing. There it was, plain as day. She couldn't tell what was actually wrong with it but she knew enough about cars to tell that the hood being bent like that was not a good thing.

"What the hell—?"

Stiles unfinished question was cut off by a resounding crash. Melanie screamed and lifted her arms over her head as she ducked. She could feel Scott and Stiles lying atop of her to protect her body from the projectile glass shards. As soon as the noise started it all stopped, even the tinkling of the glass on the floor. Melanie's chest heaved and her lungs burned due to the effort of pulling air in around Stiles' and Scott's thick jacket sleeves that covered her face. Lowering her arms she pushed them away and peered across the dark room at the object that lay across from them on the floor, illuminated by Stiles' flashlight.

"That's my battery!" Stiles growled, almost as if he took the damage to his car personally. Not that Melanie blamed him, if anything touched _her_ car she'd be pissed too. Melanie felt him moving against her side and grabbed his arm to stop him. "We have to move!" he hissed.

"He could be right outside!" Scott pointed out.

"He _is_ right outside!" Stiles shot back. Melanie did her best to get her breathing back to normal as her heart thudded in her chest. That must be what it felt like to have a horse trampling on her, she reasoned.

"Just let me take a look," Scott pleaded. Melanie felt Scott inch up towards the widow next to her as she struggled to get her lungs to work again. But it felt as if a vice grip had settled around her neck, constricting her throat.

"Anything?" she asked, gasping for air.

"No."

"Move now?" Stiles suggested.

"Move now," Scott replied.

Melanie felt their free hands grip her elbows and guide her to her feet. Their shoes crunched against the glass shards as they scurried to the door and slipped out into the hall again. Stiles held his flashlight out in front of them, directing the beam this way and that as they traversed the hall. Scott tried to take them down to the right but Stiles stopped him, suggesting that they find a place that didn't have that many windows.

Melanie's brain rocketed to find an answer. Bathrooms? There wasn't many places they could hide there and there were windows. Stairwell? No, there was a wall of windows there. What place would logically not have windows? She snapped her fingers and then cringed at the noise but it worked to get their attention.

"Locker rooms," she said. Her suggestion hung in the air as they thought it over.

"Yeah," Stiles finally agreed. "Let's go."

They ran down the halls, taking the familiar path to the locker rooms and burst into the boy's locker room. Melanie would have preferred the girls to the boys, it didn't smell like death, but with two boys for companions it was only natural that they would head their first. She switched her breathing from her nose to her mouth to try and filter out the male stench. It was potent during the day and it was still potent long after practice was over. Surely this wouldn't help her get her breathing back to normal but what choice did she have?

"Call your dad," Melanie urged once they were inside. She brought her free arm up to her nose to inhale the scent of her fabric softener. Oh how she loved the scent of Snuggle.

"And tell him what?" Stiles demanded, his voice a harsh whisper.

"I don't know, anything," she replied.

"Gas leak, a fire, whatever," Scott added, "If that thing sees the parking lot filled with cop cars, it'll take off."

"What if it doesn't? What if it goes completely Terminator and kills every cop in sight? –Including my dad?" Stiles demanded.

"They have guns," Melanie pointed out.

Stiles rolled his eyes. "Yeah, and Derek had to be shot with a wolfsbane - laced bullet to even slow him down, you remember that?" Stiles shot back. Scott sighed.

"Then we - we have to-" Scott stammered, trying to come up with a solution.

"We just duck our heads and run," Melanie interrupted.

"There's nothing near the school for at least a mile," Stiles reminded them.

"What about Derek's car?" Scott suggested.

Both Melanie and Stiles perked up at that suggestion. "That could work," Melanie breathed.

"We go outside, we get the keys off his body, and then we take his car," Stiles plotted.

"And _him_," Melanie said firmly.

Stiles shot her an exasperated look. "Fine," he agreed curtly. "Whatever." Excited that they finally had a plan, Stiles turned to leave. His hand had just grazed the door handle when Scott stopped him by grabbing onto his arm. "What?" Stiles whispered.

Scott swallowed. "I think I heard something," he whispered back.

"Like what?" Stiles hissed.

"Ssh, quiet!" Scott shushed him. Melanie held her breath as she listened. The only sound she heard was her heart pounding and her blood rushing in her ears. She swallowed, briefly stopping her heavy breathing and strained to hear again. Then she heard it. Something scraping against the floor. She reached out and pinched the backs of Stiles and Scott's jackets as best as she could with her stick in the way and pulled them back and away from the door with her. Scott reached over and pushed down Stiles's hand, blocking the beam of light so whatever that was on the other side of the door wouldn't see it. "Hide!" Scott's whispered order shot out of his mouth like a bullet.

Stiles then frantically scrambled with the locker door nearest him and jumped inside. Quickly catching on, Scott and Melanie found their own lockers and stuffed themselves in. It was the one time in Melanie's life she was glad that she was small enough to fit in a tight space comfortably. But then she cursed it in the next breath she came face to face with a forgotten jock strap.

"Sick!" she gasped. Her tongue dropped out of her mouth to mirror her disgust and she quickly pulled it back in to keep herself from licking the disgusting piece of fabric. She was too short to peer out of the slits in the metal properly so she kept a hand over her mouth and nose to try and muffle her breathing. Time slowed. The door handle creaked. The lock snapped as the sound of a swinging door filled the locker room. The door closed. Steady footsteps slowly came up the aisle. Step. Step. Step. Step. Melanie could count the beats. They fell into a perfect rhythm. Then the stopped.

The sound of the locker next to Melanie opening surprised her to the point that she ended up pitching forward, making her own locker door swing open. The domino effect followed when Stiles popped out of his, all causing the janitor to scream which made Melanie scream.

"Quiet!" Scott hissed. His eyes shot daggers in Melanie's direction. She mouthed her apology as a hand flew up to her chest.

"Quiet my ass" The janitor barked, grabbing his bearings. "W the hell are you trying to do, kill me?" His rhetorical question was left unanswered as his eyes bounced between the three of them. "All of you get out."

"Will you just listen for half a second, okay?" Stiles tried but his pleas fell on deaf ears as the janitor grabbed Melanie's shoulder and pushed her towards the door.

"Not okay. Get the hell out of here right now," the janitor ordered. "Especially you," he added to Melanie, "girls aren't allowed in here." He grabbed Scott and Stiles and pushed all three of them outside of the locker room door and back into the school's hallway.

"God, just one second to explain!" Stiles pleaded.

"Just shut up and go," the janitor snapped, jabbing his finger down the hall to direct them.

Melanie felt more than saw the janitor being yanked off his feet behind her. She felt the wind brush past her cheek right as the locker room door slammed shut. His screams shot down the hall and in the next second the silhouette of his body appeared on the other side of the smoky glass before he crashed into the door. Blood smeared on the glass where his fingers dragged against the smooth surface, trying to get a grip on something in his desperate bid to escape. He slid out of frame and bashed against the glass again. The sounds made Melanie back up and bump into Stiles who wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to his side. She buried her face into the side of his chest and tried to block out the sound of his screams but it was already rattling around in her skull.

Dropping his arm, Stiles grabbed onto Melanie's hand and then lunged towards the door for Scott. She could see more blood smeared against the glass. There was no way the janitor could have survived that attack. The realization made her stomach turn and she had to swallow hard to keep the puke from bursting out of her mouth. Stiles managed to pry Scott off the door and they all ran down the hall, Stiles keeping a tight hold on Melanie's hand the entire way.

They didn't stop running until they reached a set of double doors…and promptly crashed into them. Stiles and Scott tried in vain to push past it but they held fast. "What the hell?" Stiles gasped. Scott pushed his door open enough to make room to stick his head through and see what it was.

"It's a dumpster," Scott reported.

"He pushed it in front of the door to block us in," Stiles realized. He tucked his shoulder and tried to shove the door open once, twice, three times. Nothing happened. "Come on, help me," he urged.

"Hello! We have a werewolf with us!" Melanie cried out, slapping Scott on the arm. "C'mon, Scott, go wolf on us and use your strength to open the door!"

"Stop, that won't work!" Scott replied, grabbing Stiles and pulled him away from the door. The only place the group could go now was back the way they came.

"I'm not dying here," Stiles said firmly as they marched down the hall, "I'm _not_ dying at school."

"We're not going to die," Melanie told him, wringing her hands along the shaft of her stick. "What the _fuck_ does this thing want?" she demanded to know, throwing her arms in the air. She quickly apologized when she noticed that she had almost whacked Stiles across the head with it.

"Me!" Scott cried out. "Derek says it's stronger with a pack."

"So why isn't it chasing after Derek? He could be a part of its pack," Melanie pointed out.

"Y'know, besides the fact that he's dead," Stiles jumped in.

"_May_ be dead."

"The Alpha didn't bite him, he bit me," Scott replied. "It only wants what he bit."

"Oh, great. A psychotic werewolf who's into teen work. That's - that's beautiful," Stiles said sarcastically.

"So…what, it wants to bite Stiles and me too?" Melanie asked. Her question didn't get a response. She then noticed the cold on either side of her. That Scott and Stiles weren't flanking her anymore. She walked back over to them to see them standing stock still and looking out the widow. "What is it?" she asked quietly. Her gaze followed theirs out the window and her eyes locked with the glowing red ones of The Alpha who was perched upon the rooftop. "Oh come on!" she cried out. In the exact same moment The Alpha started running across the rooftop, towards them. "Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit," she chanted as they took off again.

The window smashed behind them and she felt the ground tremble beneath her feet as The Alpha got inside. He growled and gnashed his jaws before taking off after them. Melanie felt like she was flying as she ran behind the boys. At one point she swore she felt The Alpha's hot breath on the back of her neck it and only made her run faster. Her feet barely touched the floor as she sprinted behind the two boys. She yelped when she almost missed the door that Scott burst through but Stiles reached back and grabbed her to yank her through.

They practically jumped down the flight of stairs they came across, moving further down into the heart of the school to get away from the monster. Melanie's skin was covered in a light layer of sweat and heat radiated from beneath her two jackets but despite the discomfort she didn't stop running. It was either be uncomfortable for a few minutes or however longer or be dead. She'd rather be uncomfortable.

They burst through another door and sprinted down yet another hall and ran through another doorway until they made it to another set of lockers. These were dingy and rusty and dented. They pressed their backs against them, trying to catch their breaths as the growls of The Alpha sounded nearby. They tried running again only to find their path blocked by the quick Alpha.

"All right, we have to do something," Stiles reasoned.

**"** Like what?" Scott and Melanie demanded in unison.

**"**I don't know. Kill it, hurt it, inflict mental anguish on it. Something." Melanie was amazed by how sarcastic Stiles could still be despite the fact that they were possibly facing death. The Alpha growled again, somewhere to their right. Melanie scooted closer to Stiles, bumping into his side, feeling his keys dig into her. Stiles then reached into his pocket and pulled them out.

"What are you doing?" Scott asked.

Stiles didn't reply. Instead he curled his fingers around his keys, shushing Scott all the while, and stared off in the distance where The Alpha's shadow had appeared on the wall. Leaning forward, Stiles threw the keys and then turned, wrapping his arms around Scott's and Melanie's necks to backtrack them and pull them out of harm's way. The ground thudded with The Alpha's heavy footsteps falling in the opposite direction. Stiles, being the ever brave man he is, lunged forward and slammed the door shut of the room that the Alpha had run into.

"The desk. Come on, the desk," Stiles yelled, motioning to it as he held the door closed with his back. Melanie and Scott crouched behind the desk and pushed it until it covered the door, blocking The Alpha's escape.

Melanie covered her ears as the Alpha screamed out at them, trying to push the door open. It made her stomach drop, much like the effects of a twang of a bass line. She slowly uncovered her ears and an unbelievable smile blossomed on her face. His plan actually worked! She flashed a thumbs up in Stiles's direction, not trusting her vocal chords to work with her just yet.

"Come on, get across. Come on!" The urgency in Stiles's voice wasn't lost on them. Scott urged Melanie to go first as Stiles held out his hand. She accepted it and he pulled her across the top of the desk as she scrambled over. He gave her hand a squeeze, as if to reassure her that she was okay. As if her beating heart couldn't do that for her. Scott then scrambled across the top of the desk next and turned to see Stiles starting to climb on top.

Melanie grabbed onto his pants leg in a futile attempt to hold him back. "Have you _completely_ lost your mind?" she demanded to know as he tried to swat her away.

**"**What are you doing?" Scott hissed.

**"**I just wanna get a look at it," Stiles replied.

"Are you crazy?"

**"Look****,** it's trapped, okay? It's not gonna get out," Stiles reassured him. But Melanie wasn't so sure. He didn't sound so convincing. But maybe he was trying to convince himself more than he was trying to convince them. Either way he got on his knees and looked through the window using his flashlight to light up the otherwise of the darkened room. "Yeah, that's right, we got you –"

**"**Will you shut up!"

**"**I'm not scared of this thing!" Stiles told Scott. He turned back to the window, licking his lips. He then fell off the table when the hand of The Alpha smashed against the glass, surprising him. This time Melanie looped her arm through his and held him back before he thought about getting back up on the desk. "I'm not scared of you. Right, 'cause you're in there, and we're out here. You're not going any –"

The sound of creaking metal and falling materials cut him off and made them all freeze. Melanie squeezed her eyes shut, hoping she didn't hear what she _thought_ she was hearing and slowly tilted her head back. She then slowly opened her eyes, the brief blur cleared up as the ceiling tiles started to buckle in succession.

The Alpha was in the ceiling!

"Fuck, Stiles!" Melanie cried out, turning and sprinted out of the room. "You just _haaaaad_ to go and taunt it!"

"Stop nagging and keep running!" Stiles shouted back as they ran around the bottom floor of the school. Melanie didn't dare look up at the ceiling to see if the creature was following them. She didn't want to know.


End file.
